


Butterfly Effect

by laceandbutterfly



Series: Butterflies [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Difficult Decision, F/M, Long Distance Relationship, pre-wedding jitters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:15:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 34
Words: 66,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceandbutterfly/pseuds/laceandbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The sequel to "Butterflies".</p><p>Julia has chosen.  And there's no return to where they were - everything changes for everybody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Back to His Arms

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So here it is :) Chapter 1 for the sequel to Butterflies. And no, don’t expect anything as cliched as a runaway bride. It’s nothing like that ;)

Tom Hiddleston  
September 17, 2012

Song of the Day: "With or Without You", by U2 (Alucard & Sean Tyas Remix). Again.

 

I love airports.

I love them because they’re a place filled with such extreme emotions – heartbroken families and lovers hugging goodbye with tears in their eyes, excited tourists getting ready for another adventure, anticipating gazes waiting outside the arrival hall, nervous representatives holding up name cards not feeling sure who they’re waiting for, tears of joy flowing down the cheeks when loved ones are finally united…airports usually make me a happy girl, especially when I know there’ll be a seat waiting for me on a plane.  So does having two seats waiting for me on _two_ planes double my happiness? 

Hell no.

But like I’ve told myself, once you’re chosen, you’ll need to stick to it.  There’s no turning back because that would simply be a waste of time.  To be honest, I’m unsure about the decision I’ve just made.  I have absolutely no idea why I’ve chosen him.  I know it makes sense but it doesn’t make sense either.  There’s one thing I can be sure about, though, which is _he_ ’ll definitely be there waiting for me.  I’ve only got one job to do – it’s to make it from point A to point B, and then I won’t be facing this alone.  He’ll be with me.

I keep staring at the other unused e-ticket in my hand and think about how I’ve closed the other door after making this decision.  But there’s nothing I can do about it now…if I could clone myself, I would put her on the other flight, for I know she’ll be well taken care of in his hands.

If you haven’t experienced it yourself, there’s something you should know about expressing your emotions.  No matter how upset or angry or happy you are, when you’re on your own, you tend not to show it too much.  Like those couples who are forced to be separated from each other and crying before one of them needs to go into the passenger-only area?  They’d immediately stop crying when they’re lining up for the security check.  The young man who has just excitedly said goodbye to his buddies who came to see him off before his solo trip to India?  He wouldn’t even show a hint of happiness when he’s on the inter-terminal shuttle.  Your mind would kind of empty itself when you need to focus on finding the gate and keeping your passport or other personal belongings safe.  That’s why I was doing fine when I was still in the airport, but the nervy feeling returns once I’ve settled in my seat heading to a far-off country.

Luckily, the long flight (and the transit) tires me out and when the plane finally lands, I go through the customs and baggage claim on autopilot because I’m extremely familiar with this airport.  Actually, all airports are pretty much the same all over the world.  It’s only a matter of it being big or small – the smaller ones are, in fact, more confusing.  My heartbeat speeds up with each step I take towards the arrival hall.  I grab the luggage handle more tightly even though it won’t help at all.  But I know _he_ will be there.  Am I ready to face him yet or not?

I look back briefly even though I am walking forward.  There are people behind me so I’d better keep going.  I can’t make any U-turn here…but that’s not what I have in mind.

The only thing I do is to keep walking.

Before I’m even close to those doors, I can see him there through the glass walls.  He’s right there leaning against the railing facing the automatic doors, which is the best spot because those faces are the first we see when we walk out.  Somehow, he senses me from afar because he immediately sees me the second I see him.  His face instantly splits into a huge grin, waves at me and turns around swiftly before disappearing into the crowd.  I assume he wants to greet me where there are fewer people and there would not be a railing between us.

He appears at the end of the path with the cutest smile in the universe.

“Hi,” I can’t hold my grin back as he wraps me in his arms, with me nuzzling into his curly chestnut hair.

“Hi, ‘oney.  ‘ow was your flight?”  He gives me a happy kiss when I’m just about to answer his question.  And that makes me smile some more.

“You’re supposed to let people answer when you ask them a question!”  I say as soon as his lips leave mine.

He kisses me again between chuckles despite my protest.  I hold onto his neck, giggling.  _This is good.  I have a clear conscience because this is right.  This is what it’s supposed to be._

“Jeff, stop it!”  I break the kiss, which is easy because giggling doesn’t exactly make kissing easier.  I study his face more carefully.  I’ve missed him dearly.

His face is clean-shaven because he knows stubbles irritate my skin if we kiss too much, but I know the hair will grow back already by tomorrow morning.  That’s why he only shaves once every few days.  It’s too much of a hassle.  I appreciate the effort though and can’t help myself from cupping his face in my hand to feel the smoothness.  His hazel eyes are curved from that big smile which doesn’t seem to be able to come off from his face.  He’s not as tall as Tom but that probably makes hugging and kissing easier.  _Shit, no, don’t think about him, he-who-shall-not-be-named.  You’re here.  You’ve already chosen._

“So,” I clear my throat, a subconscious action to clear my mind.  “Have you waited for long?”

“No, I checked online before I left ‘ome and saw that your flight’s on time.  I’ve only waited for about 15 minutes or so.”  He winks at me with a click of his tongue.

“That’s good.”

He helps me with my luggage, “My parents are waiting for us at the car park.  They’re ‘appy that you’re ‘ere again!”

“Oh?  That’s awesome!  I’m happy to see them too.  How are they?”

“Good, good.”  Jeff holds my hand and starts walking.  His hand is much warmer than Tom’s… _NOOOOOO.  Stop.  You gotta stop.  You’re in Canada.  You’re good._   I press my lips into a thin line, not wanting to think aloud.  I keep walking, smiling at Jeff and when we stop, I massage my temple.  Perhaps that would calm myself down and the little voice would stop.

“Are you tired, ‘oney?”  Jeff pushes the elevator button.

“Nah…” I grimace.  “Well, perhaps a bit.  It was a long flight.”

“Awww my poor baby,” he kisses my head.  “Do you still want to have dinner?  I’ve prepared something but if you’re too tired we can skip it.”

“No, no, I don’t want to skip dinner.”  I look up at him.  “What have you prepared?”

“Something you’d like,” he replies with confidence.  I’m sure he’s cooked something delicious, because he’s so talented in the kitchen.

“ _Merci beaucoup,_ _mon bébé d'amour_ _,_ ” I smirk.  I hope I got that right.  I haven’t spoken French (and I only know a few words anyway) for quite some time.

“Awww!”  Jeff always makes this face with mock surprise whenever I try speaking French.  It makes him look incredibly adorable.  “My baby’s speaking French!”

“I have a good teacher.”

“And I have a beautiful fiancée.”  He pulls me close again for another kiss.

Jeff’s parents are undoubtedly some of the nicest people on earth.  I feel so lucky because I can never quite relate to the others when they complain about their in-laws.  Jeff’s parents treat me so well as if I were their daughter, even though sometimes we need to talk to each other through Jeff, who’d act as the interpreter.  They give me tight hugs and cheek kisses the moment they see me.  And I feel so touched that they insist on driving to the airport to welcome me, especially since they live quite some distance away.  Once I arrived at 1am due to a flight delay, and yet they were still there waiting for me to give me a lift to Jeff’s place.  I was sure that it’d be at least 3am when they finally arrived home that night/morning.  I love them.  It’s not easy moving across continents but they’ve given me confidence to do it, because I feel like I do have a family here who I can go to when I need support or advice.  I feel like…I belong here.

I present them with a tin of biscuits, these Harrod’s stem ginger sweet biscuits I bought for them at Heathrow, as a gift.  My heart aches faintly from the reminder of London, but I hastily neglect it.

“Oh, thank you, Julia!” Jeff’s father, Francis, beams at me as he receives the confectionery and passes it to his wife, Helene.

“You’re welcome, just something I picked up in London.  Hope you’ll like it.”  I realize that I’ve forgotten to slow down a bit just in case they can’t understand me completely.

“Thank you, Julia.”  Helene gives me another hug with the tin still in her hand.

We all get in the car, with Jeff’s parents sitting in the front.

“Julia?” Helene looks at me from the rear-view mirror.  “London…ah…you ‘ave fun in London?”

_Gosh, I love Helene for always making the effort to speak to me in English even though she’s not very good at it.  I really should brush up my French._

“Yes, I did.  I like London…have you been there before?”  I try to stick to simpler English.

“Non, non…only Paris.  London…always ah…ah… _comment on dit ‘pluie’ en anglais?_ ” She twists around and pats Jeff on his knee.

“Rain.”  Jeff replies.

“Ah _oui_.  So…is erm…London always rain?”  Helene asks me.

“Sometimes, but not too much.  It’s just…a little.”

“ _Bon_ … _bon_.”  She nods with a smile.

I smile and look out of the window, with my hand in Jeff’s which is placed between us.  This is my future home and it does speak to me in that way.

Francis and Helene drop us off at Jeff’s place and hug us good night.  As soon as I’m in Jeff’s apartment I go freshen up while he cooks dinner in the kitchen.  I turn on my netbook to let my family know that I’ve arrived safely.  They’ll be here to join me after a few days actually, and so will Talia.  I turn on all the electrical devices I’ve got, to change the timezone setting in it.  I don’t want to set an alarm and have it go off at 4 in the morning, nor do I want my photos to show the wrong time when I open the files later.

My cell phone won’t stop beeping after it’s switched on, which is expected because the roaming services always send me tons of text messages when my phone’s roaming.  I don’t have much memory space so I put my camera down to delete all those rubbish messages on the phone to let the new ones come in, feeling quite indifferent about it since it’s such a boring chore.  Finally it seems to stop and I put it aside.  Time for an email to my family from my netbook.

“Is the wifi working, baby?”  Jeff yells from inside the kitchen.  I can already smell some sort of tomato sauce being heated…yum.

“Yes, yes,” I respond.

“Dinner will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Is my sweet baby ‘ungry?”  He puts on his cute voice.

“Even if I wasn’t, I am definitely now!  It smells good!”

“Okay, vroom vroom!  I’ll cook faster for you!”

I hop into the kitchen with a smile on my face and peek over Jeff’s shoulder.  “Be careful sweetie, you don’t need to cook faster.  Don’t burn yourself again!”  He has a history of burning his hands in the kitchen, probably because he cooks often, or sometimes it may be the result from his “man way” of cooking, i.e. not using an oven mitt when you’re supposed to.

He grimaces at me playfully and tells me to do whatever I was doing in the living room because we’ll need to clear the table soon for the meal.

I return to the computer and log into my email account, expecting to see dozens of junk mails during my absence online.

But there they are.

My eyes freeze on the word “Tom” in the column showing the senders.  I scroll down.  He’s sent me two emails, both without a subject.  As if on cue, my phone beeps again. 

By reflex, I pick up my phone and see what it is.  I don’t know if I’m ready to read the messages from Tom yet.  I…want to do something else first.  Yes.

But do you think it’s that easy to get away from him?  The text message turns out to be…from Tom.

**I’m here.**

He’s here?  In Montreal?  I look at the time of the message but it’s so messed up that it doesn’t make any sense.  It’s stamped as 12:38am. 

My phone vibrates and beeps again.

**I’m wearing a blue shirt and my usual leather jacket.  Just in case you’d miss me in the crowd.  Look on your left when you come out.  I’ll be waiting.**

Oh dear…he didn’t.  I…oh gosh what have I done?  He was there waiting for me!  Oh dear…I’m now picturing him there at the airport, waiting for…nothing.  Poor Tom…I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry…But then again, he was actually expecting me to go there to be with him.  He…he shouldn’t…such conceited man!  He gave me an _option_.  He can’t expect me to leave everything behind just for him!

The beeping interrupts my thought again.  What now?

Jeff teases me by imitating the beeping, “Wow you’ve got a lot of messages!”

“Y-yeah.”

I open it.

**It’s okay.  I understand.**

And that’s the last message.


	2. Playing House

I put the cell phone away but leave it on, hoping that there are still some other messages from Tom.  Some other messages that would sound…less despaired.  That image unavoidably haunts my mind now: Tom in a blue shirt and his leather jacket, perhaps he’ll have his sunglasses on, waiting for _me_ at the arrival hall.  And I’ve let him down.  How long did he wait?  When did he finally realize that I wasn’t there at all?

“Baby?” Jeff shouts from the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“Can you help clear the table?  Dindin’s ready!”  He sounds absolutely chirpy. 

“Sure!” My voice cracks because there’s a lump in my throat.  I slam the netbook close, and put everything away for now.  I need to focus on Jeff, and the meal that he’s so lovingly prepared.

“Ta-da!”  He emerges from the kitchen with two plates in his hands.  Mmm…his personally improved veal parmigiana.  I remember when Jeff first cooked it for me I liked it so much that I asked him to make it again the very next day.  And since then he makes sure he’d try his best to cook it at least once for me whenever I’m there visiting him.  Hm, that smell is incredibly familiar, I inhale deeply…parmigiana.  Chicken parmigiana.  Uncle Jimmy’s kitchen.  Tom and me.

“I’ll go get the forks and knives,” I abruptly stand up and walk to the kitchen before Jeff notices anything.  I let myself have a few seconds to take a deep breath.  My heart is beating way too fast.  “Do you need anything else, sweetie?” I’m hoping he would want something to drink from the fridge.  I need to buy some more time.

“No, it’s okay.”  I can hear his grin simply from the way he talks.  Okay.  I check my reflection on the door of the microwave oven.  Good, I’m not crying.  I look normal enough.  Get out there and be the perfect fiancée.  Isn’t breaking one heart enough for a day?

“Here you go,” I place the cutlery on the table and take my seat.  “Thank you for cooking this, it smells _so_ good!”

“Anything for you, my love.”  He picks up his fork and knife and start eating.  “I ‘ope you’ll like it.  I’ve tried something new with it.”

“Oh have you?  What did you do with it this time?” I am about to eat and Jeff’s about to answer but then I remember something.  I go and fetch my camera for my food photo.

“Come on, it’s the same thing over and over again!”  Jeff teases me.  “Why do you need a dozen photos of the same food?”

 _Tom wouldn’t say that._   “Well…you know how much I love your cooking.”  I ignore his remark and snap a photo of the plate anyway.  When I’m done I make a face at him, which makes him shake his head with a smirk.

I miss eating next to Jeff, and being able to stroke his arm with my spare hand while we’re eating in silence.  It feels so comfortable because we’re familiar with each other.

“I miss you,” Jeff says as he cuts the remaining veal on his plate.  He glances at me with a hint of warmness on his face.

I finish the mouthful of spaghetti and reply, mirroring his facial expression, “I miss you too.”

He makes this cute baby face, “hehee!”

Since I’m the default dishwasher of the place even though we do have a dishwasher (Jeff’s responsible for the cooking and I’m responsible for the washing – we’re the perfect team), I collect the used plates and everything on the table after the meal’s finished.  I’ve just dumped them in the sink and am now looking for my apron.  Being such an enthusiastic cook, Jeff has a lot of kitchenware which he uses generously whenever he cooks.  There are a pot with leftover spaghetti, another pot with the sauce, and a greasy frying pan on the stove alone.  On the counter I find the can of breadcrumb whose lid is still opened, a flour-stained glass bowl, the original wrapping for the veal, a cutting board with stuff on it, and lots of other stuff and trash inside the sink.

 _Okay._ I sigh. _Well…It’s good for toning my arms, right_? 

Yes I may be complaining but at the same time, I feel all fuzzy and warm inside to see all these troubles Jeff needed to go through just to make my favorite dinner.  I found my apron, store the leftover and put all the condiments away, and get ready for the dishwashing.  … _Tom’s emails can wait.  Should I read them at all?  I shouldn’t look back now that I’m here.  Don’t make things any more complicated._

“Baby don’t you need your gloves?” Jeff’s voice pulls me back.  It startles me a little because I thought he was still sitting in front of the TV enjoying his little cup of pudding.

“Huh?”

“You know, the gloves you asked for so many times last time when you were ‘ere?  My baby needs to protect her beautiful ‘ands!”  He bends down and retrieves a pair of rubber gloves from a drawer, “’ere.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you need any ‘elp?”  He picks up a soggy plastic bag near the sink to throw it away.

“It’s okay, you’ve done enough for cooking the meal.  I didn’t help when you cooked.  You go and watch your TV.” I put my gloves on.

“But I want to spend more time with youuuuu,” he makes a puppy dog face, which he knows very well that it’d work on me.

“Get out.”

He sobs, over-dramatically, without any tears.

“Go!”  I wave him away.

He slouches forward and drags his feet towards the door, but then he suddenly flattens himself and sticks his back to the fridge when he walks past it.

I frown, feeling both amused and bemused, “What are you doing?”

He turns his head away, “No, you don’t see anything.  I’m a ninja.”

“Wha –“ I take my gloves off and rest them at the edge of the sink.  I try to push Jeff but he wouldn’t even budge.  “Jeff?”  He keeps his head turned away.  “Jean-Francois?”

He only responds with a high-pitched “huh!”.

It always makes me giggle whenever he plays this kind of game.  I shake my head and return to the sink, “Suit yourself.”

Jeff follows me to the sink and stops when he’s next to me.  He grabs some towels to help me dry the dishes after I’ve washed them.  Again, we’re such a good team and I’m glad that he’s so willing to help out on housework.  Some years ago I showed some pictures I took at Jeff’s place to some of my friends, and they were all amazed at how tidy his place was.  They questioned if it was only tidy because I was taking the photos but I can assure you his place is always remarkably neat and uncluttered, because he doesn’t mind doing household chores.  It’s one of the many things I love about him.

We continue our chitchatting in front of the kitchen counter while doing the dishes together, we are constantly smiling and teasing each other that we probably look like a Hallmark card cover.  It may not be an exploding joy but I’m quietly happy inside.  I really can see a future with this man next to me.  He cares about me, he knows about my ex (yes there’s only one), he knows my secrets and flaws and still accepts me for who I am.  Last gift from him?  100 Earl Grey teabags from Twinings.  You see why I’m marrying this guy?  If you think I’d hurt him, you’re absolutely insane.  He’s one of the best men I know – he’s so good that I couldn’t believe he was single when I first met him.

After we finish, Jeff returns to the TV show he’s paused before.  He invites me to join him but I think I’m too curious to see what Tom’s sent me (who am I kidding, huh), plus I’ll need to take a shower before I go to bed tonight.  I smell funky from the long flights.

Somehow I succeed in retrieving my netbook and sit on one of the dining chairs with such little strength that I need to focus on not dropping the computer with my slightly trembling hands.  My mind wanders when I’m waiting for the screen to come back to life.  _When did he send me the emails - before or after he went to the airport?  Oh god, should I really read them?  Or should I read them now with Jeff being so close?_   _Of course I’m going to read them, I’ll regret it if I don’t.  They may be important._

I decide to read the one that was sent earlier first.

_Dear Julia,_

_You should be in the air by now.  I need to write to you because I cannot seem to be able to contain all these emotions inside, which are threatening to burst out from my chest.  I am both excited and anxious at the same time!  But darling, please keep in mind that no matter what you choose, you are right._

_Tom_

He was _excited_.

But then he sounded like he was prepared for my absence at the airport. 

I sniffle, casually, hastily glance at Jeff’s direction, and go on to read the other email.

_Dear Julia,_

_My apologies for sending all those text messages when I was at the airport.  I guess I got a bit carried away.  I probably shouldn’t keep writing to you but I do not want you to feel bad for the decision you’ve made.  I’ve been egoistic in the whole thing – it would be wrong for you to let so many people down.  Really, I understand.  And I’m fine so you need not worry about me.  I did mean it when I wrote I love you and that’s exactly why all I want is for you to be happy.  I hope you’ve arrived in Canada safe and sound.  Let me know.  Please also send my warmest greetings to Jeff._

_Tom_

I feel like I should write back to him.  But I don’t know what to write, or rather, _how_ to write.  Who should he be to me now?

“C’mon, baby, type type!  I miss you by my side,” Jeff looks at my direction and pulls a sad puppy face.

I jump even though Jeff said his words not that loudly.  “O…okay,” I croak.  “Hey,” I sniffle again, “Tom says hi.”

“Oh?  That’s nice of him.  Hi back!” Jeff raises his hand and does a little wave.

“Uh huh,” my mouse cursor hovers over the reply button but I can’t bring myself to click it.  I know I’m sniffling but honestly I don’t want to cry or anything.  My heart sinks slightly at the sight of his words but I’m feeling rather hollow inside.  My body usually reacts before I can make sense of it, and now it has frozen.  My nose is starting to feel sour.  I blink, take a deep breath and send a short message to my mom to let her know I’ve arrived and can’t wait for them to be here in a few days.  And then I turn the netbook off before I understand what I’m doing.

I go and slump on the sofa next to Jeff, his arm immediately surrounds my shoulder.

“Hi there, beautiful.”  He dives in for a kiss.

I kiss him back, “hey.”

He twists to reach for the remote control with his arm still on my shoulder, “You gotta watch this.  This is so funny!”

I snuggle up to him to steal some heat while quietly waiting for whatever he wants to show me.  Suddenly it’s so quiet in the apartment – Jeff’s focused on the TV, the TV is muted during the rewinding, and I’m just staring at the bar indicating how far the show is being rewinded.

And that’s the moment when my body decides to catch up and even hard sniffling won’t help.

Jeff’s eyes are still glued to the TV, “Baby are you getting sick?”

I quickly try to wipe the tears away, yet he notices it from the corner of his eye.  He scrambles to pause the TV show and wraps me in his arms so that I feel like I’m protected from the rest of the world.  “What’s wrong, baby?  Why are you crying?”

I bury my head in his chest and inhale deeply.

“Why are you crying?” Jeff asks again.  He can’t stand it whenever I cry and always demands right away the reason of it.

The thing is, I don’t even know.  I don’t understand completely why I’m crying.  I know it’s about Tom but I don’t think I should cry over that because even he himself said that he’s fine, and he also said I’ve made the right decision.  So I really shouldn’t be crying.

“What is it, baby?” He gently pats on my back.

I don’t think he’s letting it go unless I tell him.  And he’s going to be my husband soon so I think I really should let him know.  “It’s…Tom.”

“Tom?” Jeff tenses up.  “Is he alright?”

“Yeah…I guess.”  I blink in the darkness created by his embrace.  “…I don’t know.  I hope he is.”

He reaches to my bangs and pushes it to the back of my ear, “I’m sure he’s alright.  What happened exactly?”

I wipe my nose with the back of my hand, lift my head but not looking at his face.  “Tom ah…” I stop myself.  _Is it okay to tell Jeff?  But…I’m here with him so it shows that I’ve chosen him.  I guess he won’t be mad_.  “He…he gave me a ticket to go back to London.”

“Wow, that’s really generous.  You should be happy!”

“It’s not like that…”

I spend the next ten minutes giving Jeff a gist of what happened, without all the details that he doesn’t need to know.  Basically it’s about Tom confessing his attraction to me and he asked me that if I wanted to, I could go back to London to be with him.  I tactfully end the speech with “…but I’m here…that’s all it matters.  I want to be with _you_.  I love _you_ , Jeff.”  I sigh.  “I guess…it still hurts to feel responsible for a broken heart.  I don’t want to imagine his face when he’s there at the airport waiting for a person who decided not to show up after all he’s done.”  As soon as I finish the sentence, another tear rolls down my cheek.

“Wow, baby, I ‘ad no idea…” He kisses my forehead with such affection that it makes me cry some more.  I’m crying for all kinds of reasons now.  “You could’ve told me.  You didn’t ‘ave to face that alone.”

I take in a sharp breath with a smile, “ _Really_.  You would have freaked out.”

“Would not.”

“Yeah would too.”

“So what will you write back to him?” He quickly changes the subject in defeat.

“I think it’d be the best not to write him back.  It should be the best for everybody.  What do you think?”

“You’re probably right…but ‘oney, thank you so much for sticking with me.”

“And you’ll be stuck with me for the rest.  Of.  Your.  Life after this weekend.  You’d better get used to it,” I jab at his chest playfully with my finger to emphasize my words.  “And show that you’re worth it, ‘cuz I gave up Tom freakin’ Hiddleston for you!”

“Ooohh is that a threat now?”

“You can be damn sure it is.”

Maybe Jeff is right.  If I knew I would make this decision, I should have told him so that I didn’t need to face it alone.  I feel as if a heavy rock has been lifted from my chest and I can breathe again, even though it still aches at every thought of Tom.

For the next few days, surprisingly, I feel quite happy.  I keep myself busy with the preparation for the wedding.  I’ve been rehearsing how to do my own hair on that day, practicing with the makeup, ironing the dresses and Jeff’s clothes, polishing my nails…I’ve never done so many “girly” things before.  I intentionally sent another email to my family, Talia and Alice to ask them if they need anything, they can write to Jeff’s email address because I won’t be checking mine for the next few days.  My netbook and cell phone have been turned off since the night of my arrival.  I keep reminding myself that Tom must be doing better without me.  If we keep in contact, it’d only be more painful for both of us.

My family and Talia will arrive tomorrow.  Jeff and I are trying to prepare the place for them: pumping up the inflatable mattresses, covering them with bed sheets (we need to borrow quite a lot of extra sheets, blankets and pillows from Jeff’s parents and some friends) and moving the furniture around to create more room for everybody. 

We’ve been busy.  I like busy.  Busy is good.  I don’t need to think when I’m busy.  Turning off my own netbook to use Jeff’s laptop is a good move too because I won’t be tempted to check Tom’s tweets or to learn about his current whereabouts.  We’re back to where we were again – separated by worlds apart.  Yes, it applies _literally_ too.

Yesterday we bought some goodies to put into our wedding favor boxes.  We’ve just done folding and assembling these little endearing red boxes but Jeff’s shoulders are feeling a bit sore so he wants to take a break.  He goes and checks the T-shirt of the day on one of those geeky websites, leaving me behind inspecting the two dozens boxes like I’m doing an autopsy.  _Hmm…this one probably needs to be redone…_

“Sweetie?” Jeff calls for me.  I look up.  His eyes are fixed on the computer screen.

“What is it?  I’m a little busy here.”

“Did you give my email address to Tom?”

My hands freeze.  I freeze.  “Huh?  No.  Why?”

“He’s just written to me.”

It sends a chill down my spine, but I pull myself together.  “Hm, perhaps he got it from someone else.  I never told him your email.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter.  But baby…” Jeff hesitates, frowning at whatever he’s reading.  “I think you should check your email.”


	3. The Butterfly Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments!! :D Really appreciate them!

Tom Hiddleston  
September 17, 2012

Song of the Day: "With or Without You", by U2 (Alucard & Sean Tyas Remix). Again.

 

I love airports.

But not today.

I’m feeling light-headed and short of breath.  The light shining in through the glass ceilings of the airport isn’t helping either when it’s reflected on the white gleaming floor tiles.  The floor…is so clean that it’s almost slippery, but then how come I find it this difficult to drag my feet away from the check-in counter?  I walk towards the passenger-only security checkpoint but on my way I pass by the check-in counter for the other flight – it’s completely deserted.  I’ve undoubtedly, utterly reached the point of no return.

 _What am I doing?  What the_ hell _am I doing?  I…is there any way to fix it?_  

After passing through the security check, I exit that hall and come face to face with these huge display boards telling you which gate you should go to for your flight.  I know where mine is, but I also look at the other one.  The clock tells me that I’m running out of time because for the other, I’ll need to take the inter-terminal train but since I know this airport so well and the shuttles arrive every two minutes, I can try.

It’s not the first time I’ve run inside an airport, and I’m sure I’m not the first one to do so.  It’s _REALLY_ demanding to run around with a heavy duffle bag strapped across your body because it keeps bouncing on your hip.  But I really need to try.  I rush to the boarding gate counter and show them my e-ticket, explaining to them what’s happened and asking if it’s possible to board this flight instead.  It takes them quite a while to understand me, both from my breathlessness and the fact that such thing doesn’t happen every day.

“No, ma’am.  This counter is not for checking-in.  You should have done it outside.”  The woman there says to me sternly.

“But…”

“You must have checked in, obtained your boarding pass and deposited all checked baggage at the baggage drop-off counter before the check-in deadline for your flight, which is…” She checks the time on her watch.  “45 minutes ago.”

“Please, there’s gotta be a way.  I mean, I did buy a seat on this flight, and this is the proof!” I push my confirmation printout across the countertop towards her again.

“I’m sorry but I don’t write the company policy.  Besides,” her fingertips hit the keyboard like a machine gun.  “Your seat has already been filled in by someone else on the waiting list.”

I bite my lower lip and try my best to come up with something.

“Well, the only thing you can do now is to wait for the next available plane.  I can try putting you on the waiting list, but I can’t promise anything since all the flights are pretty full.  You can be stuck here for days.  You’ll also need to deal with the luggage you’ve checked in on the other flight because it should’ve been loaded by now.”

 _Shit.  The other flight._   I’m in such a high adrenaline rush that I’ve almost forgotten about it for a few minutes.  I quickly push my sleeve up to see that it’s only less than ten minutes before its designated boarding time. 

“So…?” She raises her eyebrow without a hint of a smile.  “Do you want me to put you on the list?”

“I ah…” Suddenly I hesitate.  Why?

“I don’t have much time here so you’d better decide right now.”

_I did make a decision.  Would I regret it if I don’t get on that plane?  I don’t think I’ve figured out how I feel that clearly before I left London so I think I do have a reason to return.  I still have some days before the wedding so perhaps I can go there later after this…unfinished business?  Ugh.  What does your heart tell you, Julia?_

“It’s erm, it’s okay.  Don’t worry about it.”  I immediately turn around and run back to the platform for the shuttle.

 _I’m definitely_ not _sure about this decision but there’s one thing I’m absolutely sure about, which is I know I’ll regret it if I pass Tom up.  Nobody can deny that chemistry we share, or the way we can finish each other’s sentences.  I can’t even bring myself to imagine the look on his face if I had chosen to go to Jeff as planned.  Jeff…damn.  He will also be there waiting for me at YUL, I can picture him so clearly in my head now, that he’ll be standing there at his usual spot, leaning against the railing smiling at me the second he sees me.  Will he ever forgive me?  Will he listen to me?_

I pull out the butterfly necklace Tom gave me and put it on while I’m still on the inter-terminal train.  That would give me courage.  As I’m rushing to the gate, I try to think of a text message to send to Jeff.  When I see that there’s still a long line in front of the gate (it doesn’t seem to be boarding yet), I stand aside and type to Jeff:

**Ke**

_Argh.  Delete._

**Jef**

_No that doesn’t sound right._   I delete it and start again.

**Honey**

_That may be a bit too casual_ …I close my eyes to compose that message in my head, slowly, again.

**You know I love you and I always will.  But I won’t be able to make it there on time.  I have something to sort out before that.  I won’t have any phone reception for quite some hours so don’t worry if you can’t reach me instantly.  I love you.**

I press “Send” and then I feel like I should add something more.

**I’ll explain as soon as I have the chance to.  Remember though, no matter what happens, I love you.  That won’t ever change.  It hurts me that I’m doing this to you**

_Hm, that may freak him out.  I don’t want him to be in that state especially during the time when I’m off the radar._

**I’ll explain as soon as I have the chance to.  Remember though, no matter what happens, I love you.  That won’t ever change.  You don’t need to pick me up at the airport, okay?  I love you.**

Send.

Oh boy.  It seems like the only way to keep me moving is to burn the other bridge down.  Suddenly, after I’ve sent the messages, I’m back to my normal state again and proceed with the boarding and sitting in the plane for hours as usual.  I stay relatively calm for almost the entire flight, trying not to think about anything, until I begin to feel the pressure in my ears, which indicates the descending of the aircraft.  My guts flip over as the plane quickly approaches the destination.

_Again, I’m asking myself what I’m doing here.  Why am I here?  I simply stopped thinking when I was in my home airport and then suddenly my feet led me to the check-in counter for my London-bound flight.  Does it mean that I subconsciously want this?  What am I now?  A runaway bride?  Isn’t it the most irresponsible thing a person can do?  Whenever that happens in the movie I always sneer at that character – why can’t they be more decisive and actually know what they want to do BEFORE they plan a wedding?_

When the plane lands, my brain feels exhausted as if I’d put it on a mental marathon.  I’m still internally debating on whether I should clear customs or not but I don’t seem to have a choice since there’s only one way leading to the passport check area.  I carefully slip the landing card in my passport’s biodata page, and turn my phone on, feeling bored at the fact that I’m stuck in yet another long line again, and also I’m quite nervous to see if Jeff has sent me any replies.

My phone immediately beeps (hurry, must mute it before it’s my turn for the customs) the second it receives a signal.  It’s from Tom.

**I’m here.**

I know it’s immoral but I feel relieved.  At least I’m not in this by myself.  Tom’s with me.  I’m just typing “Im here 2” when another message comes in (yes I still type like that because I don’t have a smartphone):

**I’m wearing a blue shirt and my usual leather jacket.  Just in case you’d miss me in the crowd.  Look on your left when you come out.  I’ll be waiting.**

Alright.  Will look for a blue shirt inside that black leather jacket.  I know what those look like.  I’m expecting he’ll also wear his sunglasses too for his disguise. 

My phone vibrates again.

**Has something bad happened?  Are you OK?  Where are you?  I am dead worried!  Why can’t you come here yet?**

Damn. 

I’m expecting this message but my heart still tightens when I actually see it.  What am I going to say to him? 

“Memory full!” appears on the tiny screen of my phone.  So there are some more messages in the queue.  I try to delete some of those in the outbox because I feel quite sentimental about most of the messages I’ve received, especially those from Tom during my stay in London.  I wait a few seconds after the required action for the quiet buzz.

**Please contact me ASAP. Are you OK? Let me know when you’ll be here and I’ll go pick you up.**

It pains me to have put him in that state.  It’s my fault.  I’m shaken inside and seriously considering dodging Tom once I’m outside and immediately buy another ticket to Montreal.  I can’t think of that now because it’s soon my turn for the passport control.  One thing at a time.  If they sense your insecurity at the customs, you’re done, you won’t even be able to go into the country.  Gotta come up with a good “purpose of visit” now, especially without any hotel reservation.

I end up going with the easiest “I’m here to visit a friend” excuse and give them Alice’s name instead of Tom’s.  If they’ve heard of Tom I don’t want to imagine how ridiculous that would make me sound, I might as well say I’m here because I’ve been summoned by the Queen.  The customs officer flips through my passport and sees the many stamps I’ve got from other countries, and only asks, “Where does your friend live?”

“Putney.”

“Okay.” He simply shrugs, nonchalantly.  “Enjoy your stay.”  As simple as that, he stamps my passport and hands it back to me.

Great, I got lucky this time. 

Okay… I sigh heavily.  _Now, to dodge or not to dodge, that’s the question.  Let me think things over.  Right, I’m here in London.  And I’m here for Tom, no matter what the reason is._ Hm, carousel #8 for my flight… _your heart leads you here for a reason.  Perhaps you need to figure out your feelings for Tom, or to have some kind of closure before marrying Jeff.  I think I should march out there and face it.  Face it like a man.  And then the next job is to look for wi-fi, or write to Jeff from Tom’s place.  Can’t let Jeff know I’ll be at Tom’s place.  No.  And Alice.  God.  Alice will know.  She’ll find out I’m here.  And she knows where Tom lives.  Oh God.  I’ll ask Tom for suggestions.  Yes, I’ll ask him.  He drags me into this.  It’s not my fault, it’s his!  Yes.  He needs to tell me what to do._

I finally see my luggage and in spite of my trembling knees, I pull myself together and look on the left when I come out through the glass doors, into the arrival hall.  And there he is, in his blue shirt and leather jacket.  And sunglasses.  I see him lower his shades when a sudden crowd of passengers pour out from those doors.  When his eyes find me, they actually look shocked.  And then I realize that I didn’t have the chance to send my “Im here 2” to him because of the several incoming messages in a row, and so I don’t think he knew I’m coming here.

He wraps me in his long arms as soon as he can, burying my head in his chest.  I miss this smell, this temperature that exclusively belongs to him.

“You’re here.”  He whispers down to my hair.

I don’t know what’s happened but those words are, somehow, the last straw.  Everything starts crumbling inside.  I hold onto Tom, desperately trying to breathe him in, to steady myself.  I grab the hem of his leather jacket, wrinkling it as Tom’s shirt absorbs my tears.  My tears of guilt.  I am the worst person ever.  I have betrayed everybody I know.  And I’m here by myself, with only Tom by my side.

“What have I done?” I ask myself.

I look up at Tom, who looks both glad and relieved that I’m here yet he’s surely worrying about me.

“What have I done?” I ask him, weakly.

He gently pushes the hair away from my face, “You’ve chosen to follow your heart, Julia.”

I gaze into those blue eyes.  My mind is blank.

“And I am here to make you happy.”  He kisses my forehead, and presses my head against his chest again.  “I promise.”


	4. Darling, I'm Home

I’m happy to see Tom again, really.  But my guilt has engulfed that little wave of happiness.  I stay silent for the entire time from the airport to Tom’s place.  I have a lot of mixed feelings inside but I can’t make sense of anything at all…it feels as if my brain were working at light speed but at the same time it feels empty.  Tom’s brows are furrowed in concern, but he isn’t trying to make a conversation either, knowing that I probably need that kind of quietness.

_I’m back to Heathrow while I’m supposed to be at Pierre Elliott Trudeau.  What would Helene and Francis ask Jeff when I haven’t shown up?  I know that they would offer to pick me up at the airport.  I still have this tin of Harrod’s ginger biscuits I bought for them at, well, Heathrow.  And now I’ve stupidly brought them back “home” again.  I can’t explain why I’ve also kept my Oyster Card in my purse either.  And look at all these around you…the taxi driver speaks in English with you instead of French, you’re in a taxi instead of that usual minivan with your usual spot, and you’re sitting next to a Hollywood actor instead of the man you’ve said yes to some months ago.  AND my wedding dress is sitting miserably in my luggage right now._

Tom reaches over for my hand, intending to comfort me, but I jump and without thinking, jerk my hand away like a piece of boiling hot metal has touched my skin.  Instantly realizing my action, I catch Tom’s hand, almost slapping on it in desperation, “Sorry, I was just ah…I wasn’t expecting that.”

He looks a bit hurt and his hand is not responding at all in spite of my grip.  It lies flat, dead, next to my thigh.

“Sorry.” My voice fades anxiously.  I’ve turned my back to everybody.  I really can’t afford to lose any of him.  He’s the only one I’ve got.

To my relief, he twists his wrist and turns his palm up, lacing his fingers through mine.  I’ve never noticed it until now - how his deep voice makes it sound so soothing and relaxing especially when I need to calm down.  “Don’t worry about it, darling.  You are looking a bit pale, are you feeling well?”

I bring my fingertips to my cheek, “I…I’m…I’m alright, I guess.”

“Forgive me for pointing this out but you don’t look alright at all,” he smiles weakly but squeezes my hand reassuringly.  “Julia.”

I focus all my attention on his face.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now but I want you to know, that I’m here for you.”  That legendary right eyebrow of his rises.   “You’re safe with me.”

_I hope I am, Tom._

_You need to see, you can’t protect me from my own heart.  My guilt is eating me up from inside at this moment, as you speak, no matter what you do.  I don’t know…I thought I wanted to come but then why am I feeling so bad?  Why am I not feeling the same excitement and joy when I was here a week ago?_

He blinks slowly, and his Adam’s apple moves as he swallows.  He’s studying my face but I’m only staring back with blank eyes.  If he were not holding my hand, these might all feel like a scene in a movie, with me being an audience.  This is somebody else’s life.  Someone else should be sitting in my spot right now, not me.

“Darling?”

I blink a few times, he’s still there.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he flashes a brief smile.  “Are you sure you’re well?”

“Mmm-hmm.”  I nod.

“Thank you for coming here, it means a lot to me.  I…” His eyes dart to the side before focusing on me again.  “I’m glad you feel the same…”

Somehow that sounds more like a question than a statement.  I stay silent, giving him a half-smile.  I don’t want to tell him that I didn’t know what I was doing back at my home airport and I suddenly end up here.

George looks gobsmacked when he sees me walk into the lobby with Tom with the wheeled luggage and bags.  Perhaps since it means that he’d need to greet me and be nice to me if I were to live here. 

“Hello, George.”  Tom greets him on our way to the elevator, dragging my luggage behind him in one hand and carrying my big carry-on bag in the other.

“Good afternoon, sir.” He keeps his composure and nods at Tom.  Then he looks at me, considers it for a second, and decides to grant me the honor too.  “…Madam.”

I give him a little wave, “Hi, George.”

He nods again, still with a hint of hesitation, “Do you need my assistance, sir?”

Tom smiles, shaking his head, “It’s alright, George.  I can manage.”

George nods briskly and returns to his station.

It instantly gives me butterflies to be in such a closed space with Tom alone, again.  Besides, what is… _this_?  I’m going to stay there at Tom’s, for how long?  And why?  Am I moving in with him in a way?  What _is_ this?

We stand like two strangers during our ride in the elevator, both tilting our chins up and staring at the changing number, like it’s some sort of inverted countdown to a place where we’ve never planned to go, and nobody has any idea what should happen next.  Tom’s overly polite when he opens the door and takes my bags inside, so polite that he almost gives me another house tour as if it’s my first time there.  He settles with giving a casual wave awkwardly at the place and states, “Please make yourself at home…ah…you already know where everything is.  Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks.  Erm, I may need a shower later.  Would you mind showing me how it works here in the bathroom?”

He quickly leads me into the bathroom and shows me where the towels are and how to turn on the hot water and everything, and then he shows me what I can eat in the fridge (everything) and what I can see on the TV if I’m bored.  He shows me how the DVD player works.  And he gives me a brief summary or what kinds of books he has on the shelf. 

Finally he shows me his bedroom and scratches his head the moment we step inside, “…I am sorry but I didn’t know if you would come or not, so I did not really prepare for it.  I will clear some drawers for you.”

“Thank you…” I see the bed.  But it’s still late afternoon so I’ll worry about that later.  “But don’t worry too much about it, I ah…I don’t know how long I’m going to stay…”

With his palm still rested on top of the 4-drawer wardrobe, he narrows his eyes at me, asking for clarification, “What do you mean?  Of course you can stay as long as you want.”

“Thanks for the offer…but Tom, I…I don’t think I should have come.”  I pause in case Tom wants to say anything, but there’s only silence.  “I’ve messed things up, and…I should go fix it.”

He looks down at the floor, frowns, “What’s there you need to fix?”

“My life.”  Tom looks up and those eyes of his…I can’t make eye contact with him.  “If I act fast enough, I should still have a fiancé to marry a few days later.  I really…” I swallow.  “I really shouldn’t be here.  I’m sorry.”

Dead silence.

I don’t know what else to do but to slowly turn around and perhaps, I should go right back to the airport.

“No, wait.”

I was hoping that he would stop me.  I actually feel glad that he does.

“But you’re here.  You chose to come here.  Why?”

_Why?  I’d love to know the answer to that question myself._

“You…” he continues, taking one step closer.  “You do feel the same about us…don’t you?”

I open my mouth but no sound comes out.

“Are you telling me,” he takes another step closer.  “That,” I need to back up a little and tilt my head backwards to look at his face now.  “This means nothing to you.”  Before I can react, he gently lifts my chin up and leans in for a tender kiss – there’s no tongue, no fire, no lust…it’s pure affection.

My heart betrays me.  One of my arms is trapped between us, with Tom closing in our distance and our hearts beat against each other’s.  His arms are behind me now, pulling me even closer, afraid that there’s still any space between us.  The light sweeping motions of his fingertips instantly make me shiver with goose bumps.  His arms keep moving.  Now his hands return to my shoulders, trace the side of my neck, which gives me even more goose bumps, and he cups my cheeks in his hands.  Reluctantly, his lips leave mine.  It takes a second or two for my eyes to readjust to the nearness of his bewitching blue eyes.  “Tell me,” he whispers, so closely that I can feel the warmth from his breath.  “Why are you here?”

Out of desperation, I manage to find some levity in the question he’s just asked, “I…don’t want to see the tickets go to waste.  I’ve never flown with British Airways so I thought I’d try it out.”  I put my hand on his chest and push him away softly, which demands all my will power, “I really shouldn’t be here.  I…honestly I don’t know why I’ve come to see you.  Perhaps…m-maybe I’ve come to say goodb – “

He runs his thumb along my lips to stop me from saying the word, “Darling, do you need me to tell you why you are here?”

I freeze, partly because I feel too self-conscious to move my lips with his thumb still on them, and also I’m pondering his offer.  But finally I whisper, “No…don’t.”

His lips tighten, but he ignores my plea nonetheless, “You’re here because deep inside, you believe in us.”

I shut my eyes tightly, trying to wake up from this weird dream.  But when my eyes open again, of course, Tom is still there gazing back at me.  I don’t want to admit what he’s just said may be true.  I stutter, “W-what do you know?  You, you don’t know me, at all.  Not at all.”

“Really?” He actually looks amused and is half smirking, his arms casually resting on my shoulders.  That bastard.  “You think I don’t know you at all.”

“Uh, of course you don’t!  Like…erm…” I bite my lower lip, and continue haltingly.  “…What am I thinking right now?”

“Darling, you talked about knowing you, not me being telepathic.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, tomayto tomahto.”

He smiles.  Finally.

“I do need to let Jeff know that I’m safe and sound.  Do you have Wi-Fi in here?  I’ve got my netbook in my bag.”  I still need to continue this discussion with Tom and perhaps I really do need to leave soon for Canada, after I’ve thought things through.  But I can’t do that when he’s being so close and stirring up all these stupid feelings inside.

Tom inhales through his clenched teeth and pulls the corners of his mouth, “I’m afraid I don’t.  But you can always use mine if you don’t mind.”

“Well, if _you_ don’t mind.”

“Of course not.  Here,” he effortlessly pulls the chair in front of the computer for me to sit on.  This is just like that night when Zachary Levi and Joseph were here for the tennis match.  I’m always so mesmerized by the graceful way he moves, with his long, slender limbs.  He has one hand on the edge of the desk and the other on the backrest of my chair, his chest hovering near above my head.  After he’s entered the password and lets everything load, he grabs a stack of Post-it and scribbles his password down, “This is the password,” he tears the top piece off and sticks it on the desk right in front of the monitor.  “This is a capital letter.”  He underlines one of the letters.  “You can use the computer anytime you want to.  In fact, you have full access to anything that you can see or touch in this flat.  Just let me know if we run out of anything and I’ll restock it.”  He straightens up and smiles down at me.

“Okay,” I say.  “Thank you.”

“You deserve only the best,” he gives a quick peck on my forehead.  “Alright, I’ll let you…do your thing.”  He holds his hands up in front of his chest awkwardly, which makes him look like a T-Rex trying to type.  Then the T-Rex returns outside, probably back to the living room.

There’s no surprise that Jeff has sent me numerous emails, all of which quite short and urgent, sounding worried and demanding answers.  His mother Helene, in spite of the language barrier, also sent me a message:

_Hello Julia,_

_Jean-Francois says me you don’t come today.  Are you fine?  Are you sick?  We worry about you.  I hope you are fine.  Please write soon.  I hope you come here very soon._

_Love, Helene_

Writing to Jeff is one thing, but writing to his parents is another.  This is the part I dread – dealing with the family and friends.  Since marriage doesn’t only bring two people together but two families.  It is linked to your entire world of people you know.

I have no idea on how to word the email to Jeff.  I should tell him where I am but I don’t know how to rationalize the fact that I’ve come back to Tom’s place instead of flying there for my wedding, even though I still think I’ll make it there in time.   _I just need some time to…get closure, probably.  Yes, that’s why I’m here._   _But I can’t tell him that.  I can’t let him know that there’s a_ need _for me to get closure with Tom._   I end up writing a short message to him aiming to calm him down and telling him I’m fine, and that I’ll make it there before the wedding.  I ask him to pass the message to his parents too.

It turns out that I didn’t need to worry about the sleeping arrangement either, since Tom, being the perfect gentleman as usual, forces me to take his bed while he claims the sofa again.  But that can’t last forever, he needs to go to work these days and I don’t think that’s good for him not to have enough rest every night.  _Well, I’m going to leave in a couple of days anyway, right?  I just need to find an opportunity to sit down and talk to him clearly, get my closure, and I’ll be on my way._

Thanks to the long, tiring flight, I’m fast asleep the second my head hits the pillow.  Otherwise I would have stayed awake and think, rolling in bed, listening to Tom outside the bedroom and wondering if he’s asleep yet.  And I’d have been too busy staring at my engagement ring on the nightstand, feeling sorry for it and for myself.  I’m glad I’m tired.

 _Bzzzz…_ _Bzzz…._

An angry buzzing woke me up rudely.  Is it Tom’s alarm clock?  No it doesn’t sound like one…it sounds like it’s from the living room.  Oh, he _is_ sleeping out there.  I can hear that he’s up now, and he’s getting up from the sofa with a low, annoyed groan.  The buzzing continues.  This can’t be his alarm, he would have switched it off by now if it were.  I look out of the window and I can see faint light seeping through the white curtains.  It must be incredibly early in the morning right now.  Some more noises from the living room.  Tom’s walking towards the source of the buzz.

“Hello?” He says in a husky voice, coming from his still-sleepy throat.

“IS SHE THERE WITH YOU?”  Screams a furious woman’s voice.  It’s so quiet in the apartment that I can actually hear the other end from the receiver.

“Wh –“

“OPEN THE DOOR!”

I spring up from the bed.

So that’s not an alarm clock or a phone.  It’s the door intercom.


	5. Why are You Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for your patience :) I've been busy meeting up with old friends and family these days so I didn't have much time to write. But here it is! :D

I hold my breath as I listen to Tom grunt and jab at the button noisily. 

It’s Alice for sure, but how does she find out so fast?  I hastily get to the edge of my bed, grab my cardigan – ah shoot, gotta put my bra back on first, my nipples are visible through my shirt in the morning chill and I am not  _that_  comfortable around Tom yet.  I stand behind the slightly ajar bedroom door to get changed, for both the reasons of listening to whatever’s happening in the living room and being able to block the door should anyone tries to come in.  In less than half a minute, I’m ready and walk out from the bedroom barefoot.

Tom’s having his forehead pressed against the main door, eyes closed, and one of his hands is on the doorknob.

“Is it Alice?”

His head jerks up and his eyes go wide, “Oh, you’re up.”  He immediately pinches the bridge of his nose with a frown, slightly shaking his head, “Ah yes, I’m afraid so.”

“She sounds really livid.  Is it possible for us to pretend that we’re not here?”  I hover around the hallway outside the bedroom, not sure if I should join him.

“With Alice?  She’ll probably kick the door down before you can hide.”

I sigh.  I’m not ready for this.

“Besides, we have no reasons to hide.”

“I didn’t expect we need to face her this soon.” I walk towards Tom so that I can speak more softly.  It’s so early in the morning that I think even with normal volume the neighbors will be able to hear everything.

“It’s fine, darling, I can do the talking if you prefer.”  He raises his eyebrows wearily.

“Go ahead, I’m quite scared right now, to be honest.”

He smiles with a sigh, “She’s taking awfully long to get here.  Not that I’m looking forward to it…”

The phone rings.  I rush towards it and fetch it for him.  This is not my place and I don’t think I should be answering phone calls.

“Hello?” He turns and leans upon the door on his shoulder, finally releases his grasp on the doorknob.  “Ah yes…yes.  She is.  …I’m so sorry, James.  Yes of course…no, no, that’s not necessary.  You can let her through.  …Thank you.”

“James?” I ask after he’s hung up.

“Yes, the other guard.  George usually does the day shift and James the night.” He stretches across and puts the phone on top of the shoe cabinet.

“Ahh okay.  So someone’s managed to piss Alice off even more.”  I bite my lip.

Tom actually giggles.  I don’t know how he is able to but he does.  Perhaps it’s to release some of the annoyance or anxiety, but his grin calms me down.

_BANG BANG BANG!_

You can’t even call  _that_  knocking, since if she knocks any harder she could have punched a hole through the door.  Tom rubs his shoulder, which has suffered the most vibration from the banging on the door, and yanks the door open.

Alice glares at him and storms in, immediately standing in front of me.  She’s breathing fire.  Panting, and narrowing her eyes at me.

Tom softly closes the door behind her.  It’s as if he’d unintentionally, indirectly pulled the trigger.

She suddenly grabs my upper arms, so hard that it hurts.  And I’m simply too scared to move.  “Whyyyyyy are you here?”  She’s not screaming.  It’s worse.  It’s the kind of angry whisper you’d hear when someone is almost failing at containing their wrath.

“Ali.” I see Tom’s hand appear on her shoulder.  It looks firm but gentle.  And he sounds calm, in an authoritative way.

Alice turns her head sideway but she’s not looking at him directly.  With her hands still gripping my arms, she growls through her teeth, “Get your hand.  Off.  Me.  I’ll deal with you later.”

I don’t know if you have any idea how frightening it is to be in my position right now.  I’m the shortest person in the place, with a pair of iron grips bruising my arms, and being so close with these two people who are hostile to each other.  And one of them is absolutely furious at me.

Tom doesn’t let go.  He says again, with an even firmer tone this time.  “Alice.”

I can feel her grip loosen, but not completely, not yet. 

“It’s not her fault.”

Those are exactly the words to set her off.

“DAMN RIGHT IT’S NOT!”  She spins around, ready to bite his neck off.  “I told you to stay away from her, and you just DIDN’T LISTEN!  AND SEE HOW THIS ENDS UP!  Are you happy now?  ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”

Tom stands back a little from the maniac, holding up both his hands in front of his chest, keeping Alice a safe distance away.  “I would have to ask you to keep your voice down.  Even if I don’t do it myself, my neighbours will surely call the security.”

Alice simply stops there and stares at him, leaning forward, still out of breath due to the angry shouting.  Tom’s right.

“Good.” In that assuring, deep, soothing voice, Tom is in control again and gestures at the couch.  “Why don’t we all sit down and have some tea?”  He kind of ruins that newly-gained balance though when he suddenly remembers the messy pillows and blanket he’s left on it, and he rushes forward to pull them away to the side of his three-seater.

“I’ll help.”  I scurry after him into the kitchen.  The last thing I want to do now is to sit there with Alice alone.

I look over my shoulder and see that she has picked to sit in the single sofa chair with her back to us.

“What’s your plan?” I whisper to Tom as he puts the kettle on.

“I don’t have one, to be honest.”  He opens an overhead cabinet for the tea leaves but keeps his voice inaudible for Alice.  “But I think telling her the truth would be best, I’m getting tired of hiding from her…” He puts his hand on my shoulder and looks me straight into the eyes, “Of course, only if that’s alright with you too.”

I stand frozen, not knowing what to say.   _What’s the “truth” to tell Alice?  I haven’t even had the chance to properly talk to Tom yet to figure things out and now I’m letting Tom do the talking, from his point of view?_   “Erm…” I gesture in thin air, trying to help myself come up with some words, some words that would sound right  _and_  feel right.  “Well…”

He takes a brief glance at Alice’s direction before lowering his head towards me, “Darling, of course, this is your decision too.”  He looks deep into my eyes for clues or suggestions before he continues, “Okay, why don’t we try this?  I’ll talk to Alice, but whenever you disagree on anything, just cut in, and I’ll follow your lead.  No matter what you’re going to say, I’ll agree with you and support you, even if I need to take all the blame.”

I turn my head around and see Alice shuffle impatiently in the sofa.  “Are you sure?  I mean, we haven’t done talking yet yesterday, and now we’re doing that with an audience?”

Tom places the teapot and cups on a tray, “I don’t think we have a choice, dear, she’s not going anywhere without an answer.”

“But…”

“Julia, sweetheart,” he uses his back to block the view of Alice if she tries to look, and he reaches for my hands to assure me, “There are only two possibilities, and you win in both, no matter what you choose to say –“

The water starts bubbling.  Tom hurriedly prepares the tea and brings everything into the living room.  I follow him into the room, or you may say, currently the dragon’s lair, since Alice still looks seething in spite of the time we’ve left her alone sitting quietly.

“Here, have some tea and biscuits.”

Tom takes the seat nearest to her chair, subtly protecting me from her.

She picks up a saucer with the cup, holds them near to her lips, but rests the teacup on the saucer again right away with a soft clink, “Why don’t you first tell me what’s going on here?”

“Like I said, it’s not her fault.  It’s mine.  I gave her a plane ticket and asked her to come here.”  Tom leans forward and places his elbows on his knees.

“What?”

“Why do you know I’m here?” I interrupt before Alice goes crazy again.

“Jeff’s worried when you told him that you’re not going to be there as planned.  He tries to see if anyone knows where you are.  And when he asked me, I instantly know.”

“Oh…”  I look down.  “But how?  Why do you know I’m here?”

“I don’t need to be smart to know what’s happened last week.  And if you’re not there with Jeff, you have to be here with Tom.  Or you could be back at home but I’ve checked and you’re not there.  I don’t understand, though,” she shakes her head and frowns.  “What are you doing here?  Do you have any idea what kind of damage you’re causing?  Have you thought about Jeff at all?  His family?  And your own family and friends who are going to be there soon for your wedding?”

“I…”

“I’ll take all the blame!” Tom bursts out.  “I  _forced_  her to come here.  She hasn’t done anything wrong, Alice, please stop accusing her for her action.”  He turns and looks at me, and there’s something I haven’t seen before in his eyes, “I’m sorry for putting you through this, Julia…”

“It doesn’t matter who takes the blame, the only thing that matters is to book your flight back to Canada as soon as possible!” Alice snaps at me which makes me feel like I’m a school kid in the Principal’s office.  “Argh.  Just  _imagine_  when everybody’s there but the bride’s not there, what should Jeff tell them?”

“Ugh…”

“Tom, can I borrow your computer?  We should check the flights right away,” Alice rises from her seat.  “And Julia, I hope you haven’t done your unpacking because you need to prepare to leave again soon.  God,” she makes an exaggerated hand gesture to show her frustration.  “Can things stop falling apart without my presence?”

Tom and I glance at each other, reacting to Alice’s words.  She hasn’t really given us much chance to say anything at all.

“No.”

Silence.

And then I realize I’m the one who’s just spoken up.

“No?” Alice gapes at me with a sense of anticipation.

Tom’s arm is brushing against mine, and my hair stands on end for some unknown reasons.

I cough to clear my throat, “I wasn’t  _forced_  to come here.  I  _chose_  to be here.”

Both of them stare at me with their jaws on the floor.

“What are you saying?” Alice challenges me.

“I came here,” I bite my lip, swallow, and move closer to Tom, whose shoulder is right next to my head.  “Because I  _want_  to.”  I look up at Tom’s face.  I can see his jaws tighten.  “Because I…I can’t just leave you like this.”

“Are you crazy?  Think about what you’re saying!”  She begins to raise her voice again.  “He’s there waiting for you!  They’re all waiting for you!  Oh, bloody hell…do you not have your wedding dress in your luggage?  And Jeff’s wedding ring?  How…” She pauses and takes a deep breath, she’s actually tearing up.  “ _Could_ you?  Julia, don’t do this.”  Suddenly she grabs Tom’s shoulders and makes him face her, “Tom,” a teardrop rolls down her face and she says through gritted teeth.  “You…fix this.  You weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.  Fix it, fix it!”  She starts shaking him.

Alice is getting more hysterical by the second.  Tom pulls her into his arms, trying to calm her down. 

“We can only talk about it when everybody’s calm, okay?  Everything’s fine.  Everything’s going to be fine…” He pats on her back comfortingly.

“No it’s not.” She pushes him away, her eyes harsh.  “Fix.  It.”  Her eyes then focus on me, and I’m standing behind Tom now.  “Stop being such a selfish spoiled brat.  You made a promise, and you are  _expected_  to keep it.  I’ve known you for years.  Don’t disappoint me.  Don’t disappoint everybody.”

“I believe I have to ask you to leave now, Ali.  I’m sorry.”  Tom steps sideway and covers me from Alice’s angry glare and hurtful (but true) words.

I can’t see how she reacts to his request, but there seems to be an uncomfortable silence, and then she bends down to grabs her bag from under the coffee table, before heading for the door.  I stay there in the living room, standing in front of the sofa, and see Tom show Alice her way out.  Before she leaves, I hear her say, “Do the right thing.  It’s not too late.”  Tom nods, mumbles, and closes the door.

He doesn’t walk right back into the living room.  Instead, he leans against the door on his back.  For what feels like an eternity, we simply stand there, and neither of us is brave enough to make the first move or say the first word.

…Until he finally looks up and whispers, “Do you really mean what you said?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 19/02/2013: Updates may be a bit slow for the coming three weeks since I’ll need to work 7 days a week, 7:50am - 5pm for weekdays and 10am - 6pm for the weekends. Sorry ^^;; I’ll still try to type in the evenings so it’ll only be slow but it won’t stop entirely :)


	6. Homeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm SO, SO, SO sorry for taking so long to update. I've been really busy with my work and it totally killed my muse for the next few days too. I'd just sit there and stared at the screen for hours not writing anything despite the fact that I do have a plan. Anyway here it is :) I shouldn't be that busy until April so I hope I can update more regularly :)

_What?  What did I say?  I think my brain has just shut down.  What’s just happened?_

“Do you really mean it?” Tom asks again, his eyes burning into mine, which actually helps me focus.

“…Yes, I do.” I find myself saying, as if I no longer had control over what I say or do anymore.  “Of course I do.”

His eyes soften.  His inner brows rise slightly.  His lips are apart.  I thought he might start to smile or show some signs of happiness but his face freezes right there.  I start to panic, thinking I may have said something wrong.  Perhaps he’s been so busy chasing me that he’s never thought I’d actually fall for him and now he regrets it? 

He keeps staring at me with his big eyes (which look greyish green in the morning light) in dead silence.  Little by little, the corners of his mouth creep up and after a few more seconds, the corners of his eyes wrinkle from a huge smile.

“You do.” He manages to say without losing any of that grin.  I am mesmerized by the way his eyes glitter.  And that joy he shows, is contagious.

He tries to press his lips together to contain his smile but he can’t hide that glint in his eyes.  With a great sense of excitement, he rushes towards me in long strides.  I secretly curse at the furniture between us, without it I may have seen him strut like Loki in the movies.  But even if he does, I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off his stare.  He’s completely captivated me.  I wouldn’t be able to tell you my own name even if you asked me at this moment, let alone anything that needs to deal with Alice, or wedding, or anything else.

I feel really warm, from both the sunrays that have shone through the curtains into the living room, and also from Tom’s body heat.  I can’t see his face right now, but I’m sure his eyes are shining.  And he’s pressing his cheek on the crown of my head, while my face is buried in his chest.  I really can get used to this smell, and this kind of unique temperature from him.

“Oh my goodness…I can’t believe you said that to Alice,” Tom chuckles, slightly shaking me since I’m in his arms.  “Did you see her face?”

“Yes, I did.” I can’t help but chuckling along with him, but it quickly fades away.  “But she does have a point.”

He pauses for obvious reasons, but almost immediately he recovers, “She does.”  He keeps me in his arms, one of his hands is now on my hair.  Before I know it, that seriousness is gone again because he’s giggling for some reasons which only he knows.  I wait until he stops, when he sniffles and says, “She told me to ‘fix it’, but doesn’t she realize that we wouldn’t even have met if she hadn’t introduced us?  So _she_ should fix it.  It’s not my fault to fall for the most attractive girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

“You’re such a terrible liar, Tom.”  I give his side a slight slap.

“Oh darling, I mean it.  Please don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are.” He kisses my hair near my forehead, and tries to pull his head back until his eyes can focus on my face.

“You have horrible, horrible taste in women.” I smirk, but also suddenly feel very self-conscious from being looked at so closely, by such a handsome man.

“You have worse taste in men to come here.” He sticks his tongue out with mischief on his face.

I smile back at him but his unintentional remark stings my heart.  “Oh…I hope I haven’t made a wrong decision to come here…”

He bends down and rests his forehead on mine with his eyes closed, our noses touching.  “No, of course not, dear.  I won’t let you regret your choice.”  He inhales, “Alice is right.  We’ll fix it.  We’ll fix it together.  We will probably need to be scrupulous in the handling of this matter…it won’t be easy, since we haven’t taken the smoothest path, but we will make it through.”

“…I honestly don’t know what to say to Jeff, or everybody else for that matter.”

“We will figure that out together, darling.  I’m in this with you.  But now, do you want to go back to sleep or do you feel like having breakfast?”  He flashes me his teethy grin again.

I’m always amazed at how optimistic this man is.  No matter what happens, even if it does affect him, he can instantly stand back up and face it with a smile, and a sparkle in his eyes.  Not only that, he’ll take you with him to make you feel better as well.  As long as he’s by my side, everything’s going to be fine.

Knowing his morning routine, I suggest that he goes for his run first and I’ll wait for his return to have breakfast together.  When he finally comes back, he finds me at the same spot in the sofa I was at before he left.  I didn’t dare to move at all and I couldn’t bring myself to go anywhere near the computer.  _Really, what am I going to say to Jeff without sounding like the worst fiancée in history?  I even told him that I’d still make it there in time!  Well, I_ did _think that I’m only here to get closure, not to confess that I’m here because I choose to.  Damn._

“Give me five minutes for my shower and I’ll be ready for breakfast!” Tom passes by the back of the sofa and dashes into the hallway that leads to the bathroom.  I can feel the wind on my hair as he whooshes past.  He doesn’t seem to notice that I haven’t moved at all.

“Oh, please take your time.”

I sit there and listen to the noises coming from inside the bathroom.  I can tell that Tom is cheerful.  He moves fast and he’s even humming a tune to himself.  That’s something Jeff never does.  He doesn’t sing in the bathroom, well, at least not when I’m around since I’ve never heard it.  But when he shaves, sometimes he’d feel playful so he’d stick his head out and ask for a kiss with all the foam on his face… _oh dear.  Julia, Julia, you can’t have everything.  Now that you’ve chosen, you should stick to it, or you may end up losing both of them.  It does you no good to look back.  Just…tear off the bandage.  Yes.  And for now, I’m going to stick to this sofa for as long as I can._

When Tom emerges from the bathroom again, he seems to be in bliss, so much that he’s almost glowing.  We have breakfast in the sofa side by side, a bowl of cereal for each.  He tells me that he’s intended to get some fresh bakery for us, but he was so deep in happy thoughts that he only remembered it when he was in the shower.  He even apologized for that but I don’t have any idea what he’s saying sorry for.  He and his “sorrys”.

“Thank you again,” he puts his bowl next to mine on the coffee table after he’s finished.  “For coming here.  I believe I’m still in shock because to be frank, I’ve never imagined that you’d come.”  He leans back, wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.  “I’ve never expected I would meet someone like you, not even in my wildest dreams.”

I pat on his knee casually since it’s right next to my hand, “Do you think that I would ever dream of meeting a celebrity who I’ve only seen in movies and actually have the chance to be able to befriend him, and to have breakfast in his own flat?”  I turn my head and beam at his face, “Are you real?”

He throws his head back and giggles, softly this time, and says, “Well, if you want me to pinch you to make sure, all you need to do is ask!”

“Huh?”

“Ehehehehe!” He holds my hand up and puts it gently on his cheek, then with the still-present lightheartedness, he gazes deep into my eyes.  “Feel it, darling.  Touch me.  I’m real.”

I pull my hand back in a playful way, “Oww!  It’s prickly!”

He grabs my hand more tightly and rubs my palm against his stubbled cheeks.  He closes his eyes and exaggeratedly shows me that he’s enjoying it.  My yelping does nothing but encourages him more.  “Hmm-mmm…no it’s not prickly at all!”

“Ow, oww!”

“Oh darling, thanks for the exfoliating scrub.  I think my face needs it.  Hmm…”  Now he’s holding my hand and brushes his face against it like a kitten.

“Stop it!  My hand doesn’t need it!”  The skin of my hand starts to feel irritated for real but he’s made me laugh.

He kisses my palm before letting me have it back.

“It _did_ hurt, you know.”

“Oh it did?”  He gasps.  “I’m so sorry!”  Okay.  He really has no idea.

“It’s okay,” I reply with a smile.  Then I have an idea.  I don’t want it to drag on for too long since _he_ ’ll soon find out from Alice anyway.  “Well, to make up for it…you’ll need to help me write a message to Jeff.  I know it’s not really your responsibility but you have a way with words and…it may make the message less…less heartbreaking or, more acceptable from a man’s point of view.  I really don’t know,” I inhale sharply through my teeth.  “I just don’t know how to tell him that I’m here, that I’m here with you.  So…will you help me?”

He’s leant towards me to listen to me more attentively while I was talking.  He subtly lifts his eyebrows and his lips curve upwards as he says, rather confidently, “Why, of course.  We’re in this together, aren’t we now, my little one?”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank _you_.  You are so courageous to follow your heart and to put your trust in me.  Julia, you’re an inspiration.  I can never thank you enough for what you’ve done.”  He gives a peck on my forehead.  “I’m sorry to put you through this.  If I could turn back time, I would have tried to meet you earlier.”

“Why, so that you’d know me before I know Jeff?”

He shrugs.

“Hm…”

“Have I crossed the line here?”  He shifts his weight anxiously on the couch.

“Oh, no no no…don’t worry about it.  I was just trying to picture it but…gosh, I can’t imagine what it’d be like if I’d never met Jeff.  I never regret meeting him.  I mean, I _am_ engaged to him after all.  I don’t wish to have never met him.”

“I’m so sorry, that didn’t come out right,” Tom looks at the coffee table to reconstruct his thoughts.  “What I was trying to say is, wouldn’t everything be much simpler if the timing of our encounter was better?  Say,” he scratches his jaw.  “Perhaps we’d be together already before you met Jeff?”

“It’s useless to think about what ifs.  But hey,” I elbow him softly in the ribs.  “I was here in London for a few times before in the past few years.  Where were you?”

He pouts and gives me puppy dog eyes, “Too busy feeling miserable without you, maybe?”

“Yeah, right.”

“Eheheee!”

We continue our chat for the rest of the morning.  Tom needs to head out for some business meetings but he makes sure my lunch is settled before he leaves.  We have yet to write anything to Jeff.

I plan to take a short rest during Tom’s absence because I’m starting to feel my jet-lag dizziness.  But once I walk into the bedroom, I see the computer.  And I just need to see.  It’s incredibly early there in Montreal right now but I’m pretty sure Jeff is up already, as he always is.   _Oh dear…what if he turns on the webcam without warning again like last time?  There’s no way I’m ready for that yet._   I scramble to change my chat status to “invisible” before it loads.  

_The truth is, I’m feeling guilty as hell.  I can’t even explain why I’m doing this.  That’s my fiancé right there, with all these messages he has sent me.  I’m sure if I turn my cell phone on, it’ll be flooded with texts from him.  Look at all these timestamps of the emails…did he even get any sleep at all?  He’s there worrying about me, me…this unfaithful, ungrateful, pathetic…little cheater.  What makes me think it’s okay to face him at all?  I don’t deserve him.  I don’t deserve Tom either.  Surely they deserve a girl who’d actually know what she’s doing and wouldn’t give them up for the next best thing that comes along._

I skim through Jeff’s emails, most of them sound even more desperate and urging than before.  He pleads me in the first email and in the next he’d sound angry, as he’s just found out at that time from Alice that I’m indeed at Tom’s, but then he’d write again in a few minutes to apologize and plead some more.  He wrote, “Let’s get these all behind us.  We don’t have to have the wedding right away if you need more time.  But I miss you dearly.  Baby, please come home.”

_Home._

_Where’s my home?  I’ve already left my home, ready to start a new life somewhere else.  Is my home here?  I’m borrowing Tom’s bed while he needs to go and sleep on the couch.  Everything here is his and I’m currently living out of a suitcase, which is full of stuff for my (now unlikely to happen) wedding.  I haven’t even checked how long I am allowed to stay here on a tourist status.  But there, in Montreal…my spare clothes and underwear in the closet, my spots at the dining table and bed…Alice is right.  How can I do this to Jeff?_

A little “ping!” notifies me of a new email.

_Darling!  I am making a copy of my keys for you so that you can go out freely even when I’m not there.  I hope you’re doing well at home.  I’ll try to be back ASAP.  Rest well. X_

_Home._

I bite my lip, frowning.  I give it some time for the word to sink in, but it doesn’t get there.

 _Maybe one day, Tom.  But it’s_ your _home, not mine._

I stand up and go find a tissue box from the living room.  I need to blow my nose and dry my eyes.  After staring out of the window for a while, I go back to the desk and start typing:

_I’m really sorry…_


	7. (Hopefully the Final) Goodbye

My mind instantly turns into a blank screen.  A simple screensaver at most, with those graphic thingy bouncing around. 

“Sorry?” I ask aloud, refusing to believe what Jeff’s just said.

“Yeah, baby, it seems that it’d be better if you write back to ‘im.  Look, here…” he points at his screen, and I rush to his side to read the words.  “He said that he’s wondering if you’ve received any of his messages since he’s never ‘eard back from you.”  He looks at me, “have you not written him at all?”

I shrug, “Well, I told you.  I thought it’d be best not to write him back…and you agreed!”

“Hm…” he scratches his head.  “I guess he still deserves a reply.  That poor guy bought you a ticket to go back to London but you turned him down…I guess a little message wouldn’t ‘urt, if that’s all he’s asking for.”

“I don’t know…” I sigh.  I’ve been doing everything to avoid facing this.  “I mean, are you sure?  Do you really want me to write to him?”

“I don’t see the problem, as long as you don’t end up eloping with him.”  Jeff sniggles, saying those words like they’re funny.  But I can’t bring myself to smile with him. 

“…Alright, I’ll do it.”  I retrieve my netbook from the bookcase where I’ve last left it, because somehow I don’t feel comfortable enough to use Jeff’s computer to write to Tom.  They shouldn’t be together in one world, that’s probably why.

I wonder how Tom has managed to touch Jeff’s heart and made him feel sympathetic towards him.  Is it some kind of “guys” thing?  To me, Tom’s email looks quite normal and calm, friendly even, but Jeff can sense the hidden urgency and ask me to act.  It’s amazing.  But I’m not too fond of what I’m going to read next, when Tom’s only writing to me but not to anybody else.  Am I not back into my own world already?  Why must he cling on?

You know those moments when you’re too nervous of what you’re going to read so you lose all ability to read clearly?  That’s what happens when I see Tom’s email.  There’s only one message from him since I last checked my inbox.  It’s submerged in all the other unimportant mails but it only takes me two seconds to spot it.  It takes me a few tries before my eyes can stop skimming through everything:

_Dear Julia,_

_In the past few days I have waited in vain for a reply which may never come.  But don’t take it as a complaint, for I only hope that you have arrived in Canada safely.  I apologize if I have caused you any pain or inconvenience.  I know it may be inappropriate to keep in contact with you, but I honestly only wish to know that you are happy over there.  It would bring me much comfort to receive some good news from you._

_There is no denying that your previous presence has highlighted your absence now.  However, I promise you that I will learn to deal with it and I’ll be fine.  Please do not ever feel guilty for anything, because I do not regret meeting you at all – you have shown and taught me so much, and I will always cherish the memories we’ve created and shared.  I feel honoured to have experienced something that special and genuine with you._

_I wish you are well.  If it’s not too much trouble for you, I’d love to hear from you.  Take care and stay happy._

_Love,_

_Tom_

I take a nervous glance sideways at Jeff.  He’s still there watching TV but he’s shut the laptop and put it on the coffee table.  I know he’s beyond curious to see what Tom has written and I know he’s stolen a few glimpses at my way while I was reading the email.  Perhaps he really doesn’t care, but he almost looks too focused on whatever that’s being shown on TV.  With my chin resting on my fist, I stare at him – partly because I’m trying to think, or to distract myself from what Tom’s written, and also because Jeff’s pretense amuses me.  “Hm.” I hum.

He swiftly spins his head around, clearly having anticipated any noise I’d make.  “What is it, baby?  What did he write?”

I narrow my eyes at him, “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am.  Are  _you_  okay?”  His voice squeaks a little.

“Yeah,” I shake my head and look away from him to turn my attention to my netbook again.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?  Sure sure sure?”

“Sure sure sure.”  I keep my eyes on the screen.

“Is…Tom okay?  Why does he have to contact you so urgently?”

“Well,” I run my fingers along my jaw.  “I guess he’s just worried about me since I’ve never written back.  He doesn’t even know if I’ve arrived or not.”

It’s Jeff’s turn to shake his head, “I can’t believe that my own girl has befriended such a famous movie star and he cares about you that much.  It’s crazy when you think about it.”

“We do live in one world, honey.”

“I know I should feel jealous because of ‘im, but I’m actually feeling proud that other men also find you attractive.”

“Hey!  What’s that supposed to mean?”  I give him a hard stare even though I’m not really angry.

“It means that you’re beautiful, hehehee!” Jeff gives me one of his collection of cute faces.

“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes.  But I immediately take a deep breath, “Anyway, I guess I should write back to him just so that he won’t need to keep wondering…like you said, it’s crazy.  It would make much more sense if I’m here thinking about what to write in a fan mail to a celebrity, not how to  _reply_  a mail  _from_  one.  …It’s crazy.”

“Does that mean that you’re even higher than the celebrities in the ‘ierarchy?”  His eyes widen excitedly.

“Eh?  Eye-ra-ki?  Iraqi?” 

“HIGH-rar-chy!  HIIIIIIIIIIIIII!  Stop picking on my accent.” 

He’s often missing out on the H’s because of his native language but sometimes I do get confused.  “Then  _you_ stop picking on my ‘R’’s.”

“Okay,  _HON_ -ey,” he raises from the couch and walks towards me.  “I’ll leave you alone to work on it.  I’ll finish the preparation to welcome your family tomorrow.” 

I lower the screen by reflex (and instantly feel guilty doing so) and kiss him back when he lowers his head to where I am sitting, and only feel comfortable enough to look at it again when he is gone.  I don’t know why I’m feeling that way though.

Right.  A reply.

I throw my head back and stare at the ceiling, clicking my tongue quietly while I’m doing so.  Argh.   _What to write to a (sweet, hot, famous, kind, talented, and hot) guy you’re secretly attracted to but can’t be with?  How to sound indifferent enough to stop him from meddling with this world of mine but won’t make me sound completely rude?_ Argh.

Okay.  Okay.

**_Dear Tom,_ **

I don’t know how to do this!  I bang my head on the keyboard.

**_Dvk .sjh sljk sjh zd.fh a;sfh fad;_ **

“Please don’t break my table.”  Jeff says as he re-dusts the bookcase.

“Blah blah blaaahhh.”

I delete the last line and try to concentrate again.

Right. 

**_Dear Tom,_ **

**_I’m sorry for not writing earlier.  I’ve been busy preparing for the wedding and_ **

What am I supposed to write?  And “busy avoiding you”?  If only you were a complete jerk, Tom.   _That_  would make things a lot easier.

**_Dear Tom,_ **

**_I’m sorry for not writing earlier.  I’ve been busy preparing for the wedding.  I have arrived a couple of days ago, and everything is going smoothly._ **

**_Thank you so much for writing me and also for the ticket that you gave me.  It was a tempting offer, and if I were not engaged to another man, I would definitely take it.  To be honest, I also dread writing back to you because I didn’t show up at Heathrow…I’m really sorry.  I’m sorry to have shown up in your life, to stir things up but then ending with not being able to give you what you seek.  You know the whole thing is doomed from the very beginning.  It’s the hardest thing to turn away from you and to pretend nothing has happened between us, but this is what I have to do.  I’m sure you understand.  I have an obligation to fulfill, a promise to keep._ **

**_Tom, you’re a great man, probably one of the greatest I have the privilege to know.  I’m sure you will find someone who you’ll be happy with.  You deserve all the happiness in the world.  Thank you so much for all the memories and all those fantastic tours you have given me when I was in London.  I shall treasure them forever._ **

**_I guess this is goodbye.  I do want to keep being friends with you but I’m not sure if that would bring us even more pain.  However, if there’s anything that I can do, please don’t hesitate to let me know._ **

I give the email one last look, and proofread it to see if there are any mistakes.  Writing to someone as educated as Tom can be stressful sometimes.   _Hm, I guess this message should be clear enough…and polite enough.  You have no idea how much I’d love to keep in contact with him, but it’ll inevitably hurt us more if we hang on to it.  It may even lead to something worse so I believe it’s the best to end it here when the memories are still pleasant._

**_Hugs,_ **

**_Julia_ **

I hold my breath when the mouse cursor hovers over the send button.  And click.

“Your message has been sent.  View message.”  That’s the line I keep staring at, but not really reading it, after I’ve clicked “send”.

Goodbye, Tom. 

I…

I wish I could love you back.

Everything starts to look blurry, veiled by a sudden wave of tears.  It feels like…it feels like I’ve just lost a piece of my heart.  If this is the right thing to do, then why does it hurt so much?  Tom’s happy grin flashes across my mind, which makes me feel even more torn.

It doesn’t take more than 5 seconds before Jeff notices that I’m crying.  He comes and wraps one arm around my head, while he uses his other hand to smooth my hair, so that I can find comfort on his belly.  “Sh…shh…”  That’s his signature trick to stop me from weeping.  “Why are you crying?  Did Tom say something bad?”

I shake my head and mumble a few unrecognizable words.

“Do you need me to go after ‘im?  Does he need a punch?  Hm?”

“No,” I headbutt his belly slightly, and then use his shirt to absorb my tears.  Who told him to say Tom needs a punch. 

“Good thing that I ‘aven’t changed into my clean shirt yet,” he states, showing that he’s giving me a free pass this time.

I wipe my whole face with his shirt before clearing my throat to speak properly, “You know what…I don’t want to be responsible for a broken heart.  That…sucks.  It is too much to bear.”

Jeff doesn’t say anything.  He probably knows that whatever he says right now may come out wrong.

“Sweetie, you don’t need to worry though,” I continue in a whisper.  “I wrote a message to…to erm, say goodbye to him.  I think it would be the best for both of us.  I’m not gonna lie to you, I do care about him but that’s exactly why I need to do this.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve never imagined it’d be this hard…” Damn, my nose feels sour again.

  “I ‘ope it’s not because of something else…”

I frown, lifting my face from his shirt.  “What do you mean?  There’s…of course there’s nothing else.”

“Okay, okay.  I believe you.”

_Damn, is it that obvious?_

He hesitates but continues with caution, “it just seems…that you may care about ‘im a bit too much.”

“He’s a good friend, it’s natural to care about him!”  All sadness is suddenly replaced by annoyance. 

He wants to say something, but I stop him before he can open his mouth.  “And I said that I didn’t want to write back to him.  It’s you who told me that I should.  Now  _you_ ’re saying that I care about him too much.  I do what you told me to do, you can’t do this to me.”

Jeff starts to back away.   _I only want him close, and to tell me that he’s sorry and that he loves me.  I’ve chosen him over Tom!  What more does he want me to do?  I’ve been honest with him, and show him that I’m committed to the wedding, to our relationship.  I’ve tried my best to be the perfect fiancée.  What more does he want?_

“You’re overreacting.  There’s no need to.”  He goes and picks up the duster again and avoids eye contact with me.

Perfect.

I storm into the bathroom, slam the door shut and cry angrily.  I look at myself in the mirror and hate what I see.  I have no idea how much time has passed, but I’ve probably used half of the tissue in the box and I am getting tired so I sit on the floor with my back against the door, until there is a soft knock on the door.

“Baby?”

I’m ignoring him.

“Baby have you fallen asleep in the bathroom?”

“…No.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

 _What?  Ugh.  I can’t believe him._   I swing the door open and march into the living room.  The bad thing is, his apartment is kind of like a semi-studio apartment that the bedroom is only separated by a pair of sliding doors.  I don’t really have anywhere to hide.  I go and sulk on the sofa.

“Baby…” Jeff follows me and sits next to me.

“Go use your bathroom.”

“I was only kidding,” he smiles at me adorably.  “It’s a way to get you out of there.”

“I’m going back in if you don’t need to use it,” I refuse to look at him.

 “Oh, come on,” he spins and attacks me with a bear hug.  “You know I didn’t mean it, sweetie.  I know that there’s nothing between you and Tom.  I know, I know.”

My eyes are getting misty again, “Then why did you say it?”

“Say what?”

“That you think I care about him too much, like it’s something wrong.”

“Can’t you see?  It ‘urts me to see the way he makes you cry.  I only want you to be happy.  And besides,” he gently pushes away the strand of hair that sticks to my face from the tears.  “I don’t want your family to think that I’ve ‘it you or anything.  Please do me a favor and stop crying?”  He kisses me on the nose.

I look him in the eyes, and kiss him back on the lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: You may notice a slight change in the way how Jeff speaks in this chapter. I have quite a number of friends from Montreal and I suddenly remember that many of them would miss the "H" in English words because they're used to speaking French. I've changed that in Chapter 1 and 2 too.


	8. Surrounded and Surrender

It’s a good thing that we’re not marrying too young, and therefore we’re always able to settle our disputes provided that we have some time to think how silly the arguments are, and we’re willing to forgive and forget.  We always apologize to each other after we’ve calmed down, no matter who start the fight first.  To be honest, you’ll need to be with this person for decades, for the rest of your life.  You wouldn’t agree to marry them if you’re not sure enough. 

I really may have overreacted, I know things that he doesn’t know, and he’s been such an angel – if I were him, I don’t know if I could handle it with such grace and deep trust.  There’s one thing for sure though.  We do agree to disagree.  I remember Jeff once told me he’s afraid that we wouldn’t argue because it is impossible to be aligned on anything and everything.  I agree.  There’s no way I’d be a Stepford Wife and it’d also be boring if he simply says yes to everything.  As long as we don’t let our differences escalate to an uncontrollable level, it’s all good.  Sometimes we talk about other couples’ arguments and we’d have fun laughing about how silly they are.  I guess that helps to remind us not to make the same mistakes and also to appreciate what we have.

What we have is beautiful and calm.  It’s nothing super exciting or romantic or special, but it belongs to us, and it offers comfort to us.  I have been rather content with what I have…or had.  No, I’m still having it because even though Tom has opened another door for me, it’s nonsense to leave behind this whole familiarity I’ve built with Jeff over the years, for this kind of uncertainty.  I’ll not regret that I’ve closed that door.

Let’s focus on today.  After our trip to the airport, this is going to be a _crowded_ place.

My family and Talia have offered to stay in a hotel but Jeff insists that it’s ridiculous to pay that much on accommodation when he can offer it to them.  They happily oblige, probably because they have indeed paid quite a lot on the flights already.  I’m proud of Jeff that he made such a generous offer – having half a dozen of people staying in an apartment that’s meant for two, even for less than two weeks, isn’t the easiest thing at all.  Jeff’s parents are equally nice.  Except for Talia, they haven’t met my family in person but they already love them as much as I love them.  My party is going to arrive at around midnight, and in spite of that, Francis and Helene have rented a large SUV to pick everybody up _and_ to drive them around later for the wedding and for sightseeing.  We kept asking them not to bother to pick them up at the airport because after the customs clearance and dropping us off at Jeff’s place, when they return to their own house, it would be around 3 in the morning!  But they wouldn’t hear any of it.  So here we are, crowding around the exit at the arrival hall, waiting for my family and my best friend / maid of honor.

When we finally spot them, I look at them but I also glance at Jeff’s parents.  They seem to be excited yet a tad nervous.  I’m sure my parents feel the same too from the way they are smiling anxiously to each other and they keep fumbling with their luggage to buy more time before they stand face to face with us.

“’ELLO!” Francis booms excitedly when my family is within arm’s reach.  Everybody is still obviously a little tense at first, but both parties crash right into a mass of handshakes, hugs and cheek-kisses.  It’s immediately followed by the fighting of the luggage-dragging/carrying, rounds of questions about the flights or if the airplane food was okay, and the polite “Oh you shouldn’t have come” and “Thank you”, etc.  Seeing the two families getting along well is such bliss.  I know too many in-laws who pretty much want to set each other on fire.  But since there’s the barrier of different languages and different cultures, you’d tend to be more careful with how you act and what you say, and also even if you’re not happy with something, you won’t be able to express it at once.  I guess that helps.

Everyone scrambles into the huge SUV but some luggage still needs to be put on our laps since there are simply too many of us.  It’s rather late at night, some stay up much later than usual and some others have just had a super long flight, but everyone’s joyful and thrilled, so much that the air is filled with it and you can almost smell it.  Soon Francis pulls up to the building where Jeff lives, and then the whole luggage-fighting starts again once everyone’s out of the vehicle.  Each of us ends up carrying something up the stairs and Jeff lets me open the door, a symbol that his place is also my place now.

After more hugs and kisses, Francis and Helene go back home and say that they’ll see us on Saturday, the day of the wedding.

It’s really something to have so many people crammed into a starter apartment.  We need to divide ourselves into two groups – one would take the shower in the morning and the other take theirs in the evening, or else you’ll need to wait for one whole hour for your turn.  It’s fun though, most of the time.  You should see the breakfast every morning.  Jeff would cook for everybody and the entire table would be covered with bottles of fruit jam and bowls and glasses and fruits…and Jeff would even take requests if he has the ingredients in the kitchen.  Same thing with dinners if we have it at home, since it’s usually a bit pricey for so many of us to dine out so often at dinnertime.  Everybody helps though, every time when meals are finished, everyone would help clear the table and usually Talia and I would be the ones who wash the dishes. 

Apart from that, we girls have occupied the big dining table as our command center for our hair and make-up.  There are only two full days left and since I haven’t hired anyone to do my hair or makeup on that day, we have rehearsals on what we’d do on the wedding day:

Two days before: nail polish (simple French – base coat, white tips, top coat, that’s it), decide on hairstyles for all the bride, maid of honor and bride’s mother – curling for mom and me, hair clay for Talia’s short hair (still working on that though.  It’s much harder than expected.)  Practice on changing hairstyles between the ceremony and reception.  Make up experiment/practice.

One day before: Dress rehearsal.  Time ourselves on how much time we need for everything, including wearing the gowns and stick-on bras, etc. 

The guys look horrified when I suddenly yell, while sitting around the table with the girls and clapping my hands like a basketball coach, “OKAY GIRLS!  FINAL DRESS REHEARSAL!  I REPEAT, FINAL DRESS REHEARSAL!  WHAT’S THE TIME NOW?  GO GO GO!”  We have all the makeup stations set, and then we rush into the bathroom where there’s a huge mirror, seat my mom in front of it, and both Talia and I start curling her hair.

“Do we really need to do the whole thing?” My mom asks with her eyes closed, looking much more relaxed than Talia and me.

“Yes,” I say.

“We need to do it to see what kind of problems we may run into,” Talia explains.

Mom sighs, “And then we can finally start the sightseeing after the wedding?”

“Mom!”

“Okay, okay…”

When I peek out of the bathroom, I can see the men are just there in front of the TV, digging their heads into the backrest and laughing at whatever they’re watching.  That’s so unfair.  They don’t need to do anything to prepare at all!  They have their suits and ties ironed, and then it’s done. 

My hair takes the longest because my hair is the longest.  We also manage to find that one of my elaborated hair accessories (I’ve brought it as a back-up) looks absolutely stunning on Talia so instead of getting annoyed with the hair clay and the supposedly-easy messy hairdo her brother has taught her, we put that on her instead.  She looks incredibly beautiful…I’m proud.  She’s been such a great friend and usually she doesn’t dress up at all.  It means a lot to me that she’s wearing a low V-neck gown _and_ wearing make-up.  I’ve never, ever seen her like this before.

Alright, so if everything goes smoothly, it should take us around an hour and a half to finish all the hair and make-up and clothes.  Jeff and I have never really followed all those “rules” about weddings so we don’t care about breaking another – with the game controller still in his grip, and sitting between my dad and my brother, he looks up as I pull open the sliding doors in my veil and my wedding gown.  Immediately he goes, very softly, “Wow.”  My family looks at me too but with a different kind of happiness in their eyes.

Everyone’s silent around me.

I start fidgeting quite uncomfortably, with all the attention on me.  “So…?”

My brother elbows Jeff in the ribs.  “Oh!…Beautiful.  Very beautiful.  You.  You are very beautiful.”

“Are you okay, sweetie?” I giggle at his reaction.  But I’m blushing at the same time.

He clears his throat, “Yes I’m okay…wow.  I’ll look so ugly next to you!”

My brother Adrian extends his hand towards Jeff and Jeff shakes it without thinking.  Adrian smirks and says, “Thanks, man.  Thanks for your sacrifice.  I’m handing my roommate over to you.  No refund or exchange, though.”

Jeff still looks a bit dazed.  He finally tears his eyes off me and frowns at Adrian, “Uh…what?”

I pick up my dress and march towards my brother until I’m towering over him since he’s sitting down, “You keep talking like this and I’m gonna beat you to death with my own wedding bouquet!”  I give him a hard stare yet I can’t hide my smile as I’m saying those words.

“Is there a side of her that I don’t know?  Are you sure there’s no refund?”  Jeff raises his eyebrow at Adrian in mock horror.

“Hey!”  I pout.

“Of course I’m kidding.  I don’t want a refund, I only want to be your ‘usband.”

Adrian pats on his back, “You’re a real hero.  Thanks again, dude.”

I choose to ignore my annoying brother and goes back into the bedroom to get changed.  I still need to see how long I need to take to change into my reception dress and do the matching hair.

It took all afternoon.  The removal of the makeup afterward, the need to wash our hair to get rid of all those chemicals, and some further ironing of the clothes lead us right into dinnertime.  In order to take it easy, we’ve agreed to go out for dinner.  Jeff and I walk in the front of the group to lead the way.

“Tomorrow.”  I beam at him knowingly.

“Yes, tomorrow you’ll be my wife.”

“And you’ll be my hubbie!”

He squeezes my hand gently, which he’s holding as we walk.  “You’re the best thing that’s ever ‘appened to me.  Thanks for being in my life, _mon bébé d'amour._ _”_

I wrinkle my nose at him, “Will you still say ‘wow’ tomorrow?”

“Wow!”  He gasps and widens his eyes.  “What a beautiful baby!”

“I said ‘tomorrow’…”

“Hehehee I know, I know.  But you’re always stunning, every day, every minute!  Even when you’re snoring and drooling in your sleep!”

“Argh.”

He tries to kiss me in his cute giant baby way when we’re walking but ends up bumping his nose on my glasses.

“Ow!”  I take my glasses off and check, “Hahahaaa!  I can see your noseprint so clearly on the lens, look.”

“I’m sorry, baby.”  He apologizes but he’s smiling, with me.

I compare the noseprint with his nose side-by-side and can’t stop laughing.  My family crowd around us to also have a look.  It may seem to be something super trivial but at that moment, I’m truly happy.  Just being surrounded by the ones who love me and who’ve taken care of me for so long, and I love them back with all my heart.  At that moment, I’m home.  Home is wherever you’re with your loved ones and laughing and joking.  At that moment, London doesn’t even exist.

It’s not that I have been avoiding _him_ again.  I’ve actually been checking my emails and keeping my phone on most of the time but…there’s nothing from him.  No more messages, no more texts.  Nothing.  It seems that he’s finally got the message and is leaving me alone.  I only hope that he’s doing alright. 

After making sure everything is in the right place, but before I go to bed that night, I check the internet again to see if there’s any news from Tom, even though he’s not contacting me directly.  Finally I see that he’s updated his status:

##### Tom Hiddleston **shared a** **link** **via** **WhoSay Broadcast.**

September 22, 2012

Thought for the weekend: #5. "Let yourself be happy".

“Top five regrets of the dying”

What’s that?  Is he depressed?  No, it can’t be.  Perhaps it means that he’s finally realized it’s pointless to dwell on this fruitless…quest?  And he’s finally moving on because there’s something better to do in life?

There’s another update:

##### Tom Hiddleston

September 22, 2012

Madrid? If you say so!

I would be lying if I said I’m not a tad disappointed.  Of course I’ve dreamt about it like it always happens in the movies – that someone would just appear at the end of the aisle, yelling “NO!” to stop the wedding at the last second because they realize how much they love that person and can’t bear to see them marrying another person.  But of course he’s going to Madrid and not Montreal.  Well…at least he sounds happy. 

And when do you know you really love and care about a person?

It’s when you don’t want to “own” them.  You truly, genuinely want them to be happy and well.  And that’s exactly what brings you peace in your heart.

I sleep well that night.

***

Today is the day.

It’s actually very calm and serene in the morning because we don’t really need to do anything yet.  The ceremony will take place in mid-afternoon, which I’m happy about, because my eyes tend to look quite puffy in the morning.

The guys are playing a video game this morning while my dad is shaving in the bathroom.  We girls are double-checking, triple-checking if the shoes are shining or if the dresses or ties have got any wrinkles.  But generally we’re still calm because to be frank, there’s not much left to do.  Talia and I end up reading and my mom is reading news on the internet.

Everything’s calm and peaceful.

Until the phone rings.

Jeff answers it,”Oui, allo.”

We keep on with our own business but I glance at Jeff’s direction.  I notice there’s something wrong.  He retreats into the kitchen for some privacy, but that room is right opposite from where I’m sitting so I can see him pointing his index finger angrily in the air. 

I can make out from his harsh whisper, “Can’t you just leave her alone?  You need to stop!”


	9. Here Comes the Bride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so very much for the kudos and the comments!

Tom?  It’s got to be Tom.

I jump up from where I’m sitting and tiptoe into the kitchen, just in time when Jeff opens the door leading to the balcony where he keeps his barbecue grill outside.  I stop him from closing the door behind him and follow him out, which startles him a little because he hasn’t expected me to be right there so close to him.

“Tom?” I mouth, with lifted brows.

He nods, looking rather irritated, but still keeps the phone pressed to his ear.

I stand there and wait with a pounding heart.  _Is he coming here like a prince on a white horse?  Is he finally confronting Jeff?_

I don’t have much time to go crazy though because Jeff lets out a heavy sigh, mumbles, “well then, thank you,” and hands the phone to me.  I stare at him, looking unsure, because nothing makes sense in this picture.

With hesitating hands, I take the phone but it feels like I’ve just been pushed on stage in front of 3000 people because there’s Jeff looking at me from two feet away and then there’s Tom, waiting on the phone.  I put the phone next to my ear but keep my eyes on Jeff’s face.

“H…hello?”

“Hello, darling.” His voice is calm and deeper than usual.

“Hi, Tom.”  I wince, not sure how I should act in front of Jeff.  Nor do I know what to say to Tom when Jeff’s looking.  “…How are you?’

“Good!  …I’m not on speakerphone am I?”

I let out a half-giggle, “No, no.”

“Phew, well, I hope I’m not in the way of your preparation or anything?”

“No, don’t worry about it.  It’ll be in the afternoon,” I turn around and peek through the door at the time shown on the stove.  I must be looking all flustered and embarrassed.  His voice alone makes my heart flutter.  _Stop stop stop_.  I clear my throat, “It’s uh…it’s not even 11 here.”

 “Ah, I’m just calling to wish you a good wedding.”

My heart sinks, but it’s a relief too at the same time.  “Oh.”  He’s not saying anything back, so I add, just to make things less awkward, “thank you.  That’s very nice of you.”  I look back at Jeff again and shrug.  He shrugs back.

He gives me a dry, soft, throaty laugh, “I’m sure you’re going to be the most beautiful bride today…”

If Jeff isn’t staring at me, I really would try to keep Tom on the phone for as long as I could.  But now Tom is making me blush (I hope I am not, but I can feel the growing heat in my cheeks), and even though I’ve turned my back on Jeff, I can feel his eyes and ears on me.  _What else can I do?_   “Hopefully there is more than one couple getting married today, haha!”  I giggle anxiously.

“There must be hundreds of people getting married today all over the world but I know you’re the most beautiful of them all,” he pauses briefly before he continues, “I’m so sorry that I can’t be there to witness that today.  I need to be in Madrid.”

“Ah yes, I saw it on the internet.” I burst out before I can stop myself.

That throaty chuckle again.  “Sometimes I really should be more careful with what I put online.”

Jeff leans in closer, wondering what’s taking the conversation so long.  It instantly puts me back into fiancée-mode.  “…Y – yeah, you should.  Well, erm, thanks so much for calling, Tom.”

There may be a nanosecond of quietness but I’m not really sure, not with Jeff being so close to the phone receiver and my head is feeling hot.  “My pleasure, darling.  My pleasure.”

“Have a great time in Madrid.”

“Thank you.  …Can’t wait to see some photos of the wedding!”

“I’ll make sure to send you some later,” I shake my head and blink, “I…gotta go.”

“Of course.  I ah…I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, Tom.”

“Bye.”

I pull the receiver away from my ear before I hear the click from Tom’s side, hang up and look at Jeff with a (hopefully convincing) bemused expression.  “That was weird.  What did he say to you?”

He pushes open the door to walk back into the kitchen, “He simply wished us a good wedding, and said that I’m a lucky guy.  What did he say to you?”

“Same thing, he wished us a good wedding, and said he can’t wait to see the photos.  He also said he’s going to Madrid.”

He tilts his head and shrugs once again, “Okay.  I thought ‘e’s bothering you again.”

“Nah,” I wave.  “You’re thinking too much.”

“Yeah, I must be.”  He returns to the living room and resumes the video game he and my brother were playing.  My brother has been playing for him during his absence.

Talia gives me a knowing look but I dismiss it with a “well, it was nothing” pout before I go back to where I’ve hung my veil to make sure it won’t fall and crease.  There isn’t much to do so I ask Jeff for his camera and start taking some snapshots of my gown, shoes, bouquet, rings and all those so-called candid shots of my family and friends.  I haven’t hired any professional photographer but I love taking photos so I’d better do it when I’m not too busy.  I won’t be able to take a photo of myself when I say “I do”.  I end up keeping myself entertained during these idle hours, the last hours being a Miss.

I try not to think about it.

I mean, everything’s ready.  Everything’s ready to go.  There’s no backing out now.  It’s your turn – you’re now first in line.  And even Tom wished you a good wedding.  So a good wedding it is.

After lunch, we all start to get ready for the event.

This time, since we’ve had our rehearsals, I know that I need to wipe my breasts with alcohol before wearing the stick-on bra or else it’s going to fall off soon, and I know exactly if I’m curling my hair inwards or outwards.  My mother and I share a moment when she helps me to wear a pearl necklace that belongs to her, and a bracelet that she also wore when she got married almost three decades ago.  We’ve practically turned the apartment into a war zone in which hangers can be found everywhere, make up spread on the table, boxes/bags for accessories or shoes are hastily left on the floor, on the coffee table, or on the sofa.  When Jeff’s parents come, they don’t even have anywhere to sit down.  But they’re too busy checking Jeff’s hair and tie (and everything else) to notice.

Cameras are already clicking.  I need to look happy.  Both my mother and my brother are huge photograph fanatics so it’s natural that they’re already taking photos.  We’ve also asked the people we’ve invited to bring their cameras if they want to, so I’m expecting even more pictures to be taken when we arrive at the courthouse.  But yes, I need to look happy or else it’ll be captured on camera.

It’s almost like being put on a TV show, when you need to get into character.  Today I’m going to be the girl who’s getting married, the beautiful bride.  _Ha, TV show, huh._   I shake my head and smile at my memory.  It reminds me of that time when I was on the London Eye with Tom and it felt too good to be true so I was imagining it to be a reality show and I would be torn away from that world at any second to be thrown back into reality. 

But.

I’ve got nothing to worry about this time.  Because I’m already in reality, and I’m not going anywhere.  No one is going to yank me out from this.  This, is where I belong.  This, is what I’ve chosen.

I smile happily at the camera when my brother is trying his best to take a photo of me and Talia in a moving SUV.

Everything suddenly feels even more real when we arrive at the Palais de Justice.  I haven’t even reached the entrance when a pair of newlyweds walk out happily with their bridal party, and the bride nods at me with a glowing grin.  Talia is following behind me with my faux fur shawl in her arms, while I focus on not letting my gown get dirty from the wet floor since it’s been raining.  I was holding the umbrella for Talia when we got out of the vehicle, worrying that she may trip since she’s not too used to high heels.

As soon as we’re inside, we see Jeff’s aunt sitting there waiting for us.  Jeff and I find our names on the poster stand.  We hang around in the main lobby for a while before taking the elevator up.

Jeff’s friends and families start to arrive in groups after a while.  Naturally everyone would come and congratulate me and take pictures with me and everything.  I keep my smile plastered on my face, and try my best to mingle with all the guests even though most of them are only my acquaintances.  I can see other couples who have just got married or waiting for their turn like I am.  Not far away is an Asian-looking woman in a beautiful red mermaid gown, and in the room which we’re waiting for I can see it filled with laughing people.

Do I want to run away?

Honestly, I’ve stopped thinking.  I’m waiting for our turn in that room where we’ll get married in, as if I were waiting for my turn at a doctor’s clinic.  I don’t feel anything.  No excitement, no fear, no nervousness.  It’s simply another day, except the fact that I’m dressing up and people’s attention is on me.  I don’t know…perhaps I’m usually the kind of people who act first and feel later, but I only know that at this moment, I feel nothing.  However, I do remember to smile non-stop for the photos.

When everyone’s inside the (inner) room, leaving only Jeff and I outside, facing the opened double door that leads to the aisle, I smile at Jeff and gently hold the arm he’s offered.  That’s the moment when I finally feel something.  We’re just there, waiting for Canon in D to start playing on the speakers, and then suddenly it hits me that I’m going to be a “Mrs.” in a few minutes.

The music starts.  I didn’t even choose the music.  They simply asked us if we want any music when we registered.  But it’s okay.  I like this piece.  It’s a classic for wedding, isn’t it?

All our friends and families stand up and they turn their heads to look at us.  Look at me. 

All the women look like they’re going to cry, or they would at least have that “oooohhh this is so beautiful” look on their faces.

I don’t know when I should start walking.  But Jeff subtly pulls his arm to give me a signal.

Okay.

Not understanding much French, I am actually feeling a bit insecure in the whole wedding thing.  The judge (?) has explained the procedure to Jeff, but they’ve spoken in French so I didn’t understand anything.  I don’t even know where I should stand or if I should sit.  I just follow whatever Jeff does.  I don’t understand half of the things the judge said…something about the law and something about marriage.  But luckily I don’t need to repeat the words she reads, unlike in some countries I know.  I only need to say “Yes, I do.” when she’s finished.  And that’s exactly what I do.  It may be a stupid thing to do to agree on something you don’t fully understand and sign on some papers when you’re nervous and so you can’t read every word clearly.  But Jeff does the same things so I guess it’s alright.  I know that I’m not selling my soul.  And I don’t even need to change my last name.  Cool!

Oh, camera.  Smile!

If you have expected some extraordinarily emotional moments, then I’m sorry I’ve disappointed you.  Nobody cries, nobody dabs the corners of their eyes during the ceremony, nothing dramatic happens.  Before I know it, I’m someone’s wife and everybody is having their turns to hug and congratulate me.  All I can think of is how much they’re pulling my veil when they hug me, and now it’s completely out of place.  More photos are taken and then they go to the restaurant, while Talia, my mom and I are driven back home by Francis for me to get changed into my reception dress.  Jeff and the others head to the restaurant first to keep our guests entertained.

I don’t have any time to think but to do exactly what I’ve practiced.  It takes me about 20 minutes to change into a new dress, a new hairdo, new shoes, new accessories and to reapply makeup.  I’m doing great.  Everything’s going perfectly.

The guests applaud when I make my entrance in the restaurant.  Jeff strides towards me with glowing cheeks.  I’ve never seen him happier.  I’m happy to see him happy.  He carefully leads me to the table at the end, guiding me with his hand placed gently the back of my backless lace gown and seats me in the middle.  I notice that he’s already put all those favor boxes on the tables for all the guests.  Good job, Jeff.

Someone taps on my shoulder.

“Hi,” a teenage girl in a cobalt blue strapless dress bends down and smiles at me with a hint of timidness.  I think she’s one of Jeff’s relatives who I’ve never met before.

“Oh hi,” I try to recall her name.  “Um, Camille, right?”

“Yes, yes,” now she squats behind my chair.  Jeff also turns his head around and Camille waves at him.  “Allo Francois.”  Then she looks at me again, “I ‘eard from him that you went to London and met Tom ‘iddleston, didn’t you?”

“Ah, yes I did.  Wow, news travel fast, huh?”

She turns her hands into tight balled fists and screamed with her mouth closed, staring at me with wild eyes.  I instantly grab Jeff’s arm to get his attention.  I think his cousin is turning.

“You did?  YOU DID?”

“Y…yes.”

“Oh my GOD I’m such a big fan of his I’ve watched all his movies I love ‘im Tom is going to be my ‘usband I love Loki I’m in ‘is army oh my god you met ‘im!” No.  She doesn’t need to stop to breathe.

I don’t know what I should do.  I want to kind of…pat on her head to calm her down but she’s acting like a dog with rabies so I don’t dare to touch her.  My hand stays about a foot in front of my chest but I’m too scared to move.

“So what is ‘e like in real life?”  Her eyes are glittering like one of those manga characters.

“He is erm…he’s very nice.”  _Oh please stop this.  He’s the last person I want to think of right now._

“I KNEW IT!” She stands back up briefly to make way for the waiter (who happens to resemble Nick Lachey a _lot_ ), who’s come to put the appetizers on our table, then she squats back down behind me and her eyes return to craziness.  She tries to hide it by speaking in a stage whisper, “He’s soooooo hot.  So you…you can contact him?”

I blink and try to decide what I can say, “Ah…”

“I’ve sent him tweets but he’s never replied.  Do you think…”

“Camille,” Jeff interrupts.  “I don’t think she can help you.”

Her face drops.

I’m thankful for Jeff’s help.  “I’m sorry dear, I’ve only met him as a friend’s relative so I don’t really have his contact information.”

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry.  But hey,” I feel really guilty so I’m trying to make up for it.  “Hiddlestoners assemble!”  I raise my palm for a high five.

She smiles again and slaps my hand.

“You know what, I think I do have a photo that I took with him.  Have you seen it on Twitter?”

“REALLY?”

“Give me your email address, I’ll send it to you.”

“Ooooooohhh THANK YOU!”

“You’re welcome.”

After she finally goes back to her table, Jeff gives me a weak smile and a look to tell me he understands.

 _Does he really?  Does he know what I’ve given up to be here?  He’d better treat me well or I’m really going to regret this._ I look at my husband when he’s now busy translating and explaining the French menu to my family and Talia.  There are not enough seats for everybody from both of our families at our table so he’s put his family at the next table while he keeps mine with us.  That’s a very nice gesture.

Did I mention that there’s a rainbow right outside the restaurant?  No wonder they say a rainy wedding is a lucky wedding. 

We’re all exhausted by the end of the day, but Jeff and I still manage to open all the cards and gifts together.  It is serene and comforting.  We smile at each other and give each other little pecks between each card.

Yes.  I’m someone’s wife now.


	10. A Dream Come True

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading! I love hearing from you girls and thanks for leaving me kudos! :)

I’m so stupid.

I asked for help and so why have I been here typing, by myself?  I’ve got a Cambridge graduate to help me out and ha, I must think that I’m better than him because I know my fiancé better than he does.  And that would be the perfect explanation of why I’ve spent the whole morning hugging my knees in front of the computer, blowing my nose, emptying the tissue box to dab on my sticky face, and sending crazy messages to Jeff.  I’m not going to show you everything I’ve written, because they’re just embarrassing, and depressing…but mostly embarrassing.  Basically, I’ve written apologies, and then I sounded confused, I apologized some more, and asked him to forgive me because my faith is shaken, I told him that I still love him and feel I’ve let him down.

It’s the worst idea ever.  I really shouldn’t have come into the bedroom or switched on the computer.  I should have waited until Tom comes back.

It is a mistake to exchange messages with Jeff too.  He responded almost instantly after I’ve sent him an email.  _My dear Jeff…have you even been away from the computer at all?_   Somehow he’s convinced that it’s just a “phase” I’m going through, that Tom is only a friend of mine.  I couldn’t find the words to tell him that it’s only his wishful thinking, as Tom is definitely more than a friend for me.  I secretly cursed at my weakness – how come the more I wrote, the more Jeff seemed to be in denial and kept going on and on about having me by his side soon.  _Yes, this is a mistake.  I couldn’t read another word from him so I mentioned that I needed a rest and turned the computer off._

I curl into a ball under the duvet for the rest of the day, only coming out when I feel hungry.  I think I’ve dozed off at some point because I don’t even notice it when Tom’s back from work.  I only wake up when the mattress moves from the weight of Tom’s as he sits down on the other side of the bed.

His huge hand easily covers my whole shoulder as he shakes me gently to wake me up, “Julia?”

“…Eh?” 

“Julia, don’t sleep too much or you won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.”

“Oh,” I turn away from him and hide my face in the pillow by reflex.  “You’re back,” I mumble into the pillow.

“Mm-hmm.  Come on, wakey-wakey!”  He squeezes and pats on my shoulder.

I reach for my glasses which I’ve put on the night table so that I don’t look like a gold fish with dark circles around the eyes when Tom sees me.  I have such ugly sleeping face.  Besides, I am a bit worried about how I look after spending hours crying.  My glasses would help hide my eyes behind them.

“Alright I’m up…” I sit up from the bed with the glasses on, but still try to hide my face with my hair.

To my horror, Tom sweeps my hair away from my face, so softly that he’s hardly touching me but my skin is ultra-sensitive to his feathery touch.  There’s no excuse for me to stop him so naturally he ends up seeing the state I’m in.  “Oh my goodness!”  He gasps.  “Have you been crying?”

I bite my lip and look away.

“What’s wrong?”

I sniffle audibly, pressing my lips together.

Tom climbs into the bed, picks up the pillows so he doesn’t sit on them, and rests his back against the headboard, his legs sprawled in front of him.  He pulls me towards him until my ear touches his upper chest, my arms folded in front of me like I’m a little hamster, and he bends one of his knees to keep me in position.

“I’m so stupid…” I murmur, slurring every syllable.

“Little darling, you’re everything but stupid.”  He breathes on my hair.

“You don’t understand…I asked you to help me, yeah?”

“You mean with the letter to Jeff?”

“Yep...I should’ve waited for you but I don’t know what’s got into me…I’ve written to him already and – “ I take a deep breath.  “It hurts.”  My nose feels sour but no, I can’t make Tom feel the same guilt that I feel.  I steady myself before I continue, “I’m feeling really, really bad.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to be here with you, but gosh…what am I doing?”

Tom offers no answer.  He simply keeps me in his embrace.

We stay like that, breathing together, sharing the same time and space, until our hearts beat to the same rhythm.  He’s managed to calm me down and keep my hands from shaking.

My arms are starting to feel numb from being bent for too long so I balance myself by slightly pushing his chest to straighten up, after a silent sigh.

It’s the first time I’m looking at him properly since he’s back.  The room is dim but I have no trouble reading his face – his brows are furrowed but his eyes are soft, and he’s gazing straight into my eyes.  His hair is tussled and his collars are flattened (thus pushed wider, showing more skin) from the hug.  …To be honest, that is an amazingly inviting look.  I’m at a dangerous place at a dangerous time, only inches away from a dangerously handsome man.  Whatever Tom’s done before to calm me down has become useless now.

When he slides his hand behind my ear until it’s on the back of my neck, I know what he’s about to do.  But I don’t find myself resisting at all.  He only needs to give a slight pressure on my neck, and leans in a millimeter closer, that’s all it takes for me to mirror his movements and close in on our distance.  My heart is pounding hard but I want to be there.  I couldn’t have tasted this for more than half of a dozen times but I’m well familiar with how they feel.

Neither of us utters a word.  I hold onto his neck for support because I know for sure that the world would once again spin around me.  However, to my surprise, it doesn’t.  All I can focus on is those emotions he’s trying to tell me through his lips.  No other words or sentences can describe it as well, no matter how eloquent he is.  I keep my eyes closed since that feels like it’d be the only way for me to fully understand what the kiss is about.   It starts with a gradual but firm touch.  I hold my breath for a few seconds before he pulls away – my eyes flutter open to see him looking back at me, lips slightly apart.  He waits for two seconds before diving in again for a more full-on kiss.  It’s as if he’s trying to take a mental picture of what my lips are like with his own lips. 

I don’t need to think at all but to let my body respond.  I trust him.  I have no trouble to surrender completely to this man.  I don’t know, is this love?  I’ve never felt anything quite like this.  Jeff has never kissed me like Tom has.

Jeff.

Tom’s kiss has grown more urgent that I can feel his weight on me.  But with a swift move, I already have one leg hanging off the bed, adding the distance between us like I were an alerted cat.

“Sorry!”  I whisper.  My hand is still on his chest, both from pushing him away and feeling his heartbeat.

He stares at me with his mouth hanging open, in the exact state I’ve left it.

“I, I’m sorry, Tom.”

He blinks.  He’s about to say something but then he swallows those words.  It tightens my chest to see those frowned brows again.  “Is it something that I’ve done?”

“No, Tom, it’s ah…” I look down, “it’s my head.  The…”  I gesture awkwardly in a desperate attempt to construct my thoughts.  “It went _‘beep beep beep!’_ in my head.  Haha!”

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head.

“It’s nothing.” I turn away and place both of my feet on the floor.  “I need to use the bathroom.”  I escape into the cold little room before Tom can say anything.

 _The guilt is eating me up inside._ I check my finger and realize that I’ve left my engagement ring on the night table for my nap.  I feel strangely naked without it.  _I’m still engaged but I’m here kissing another man.  I’m a cheater._

_Knock.  Knock._

“Julia?”  Tom is on the other side of the door.

I glance at the mirror before opening the door for him, and come face to face with his chest, which instantly slams into my face.  He wraps me in his arms again, and there’s no escaping this time.

“Hey, I know what you’re going through.”  He sounds collected.  “You don’t need to run away from me.  We’re in this together, don’t you remember?”  I can feel the vibration on his skin as he speaks.  “I don’t want to rush you into anything.  I’m just happy that you’re here.  But if there’s anything that I can help, don’t ever hesitate to let me know.  Okay?”

I nod, ruffling his shirt.

In spite of what he’s said and my efforts, for the next couple of days, things don’t progress at all.  It may have got worse, actually.

Tom and I act rather normally.  We have breakfasts and dinners together every day, lunches sometimes when he doesn’t need to go out for work.  And he’s tried to teach me to cook a few dishes too.  We’ve been out together to do grocery shopping and taking walks, carefully posing as friends of course.  Luckily he hasn’t been spotted or recognized, or perhaps people are used to him.  He seems to be at ease in front of other people so I don’t feel uncomfortable at all.  It’s funny in a way though, how that we had no problem going out hand in hand in public before when we were still friends, but now that we’ve got closer we need to go round as ordinary “friends”. 

But then again, no matter how hard we try to pretend, there’s a…veil between us.  Sometimes it would happen that he’s trying to talk to me or ask me a question and find me zoning out instead.  _I know I want to be here because…well, I’m here now, aren’t I?_   I sincerely hope that I can make myself to be here, completely, since from time to time, or to be more accurate, most of the time, I’m only physically here…I often listen to him halfheartedly or would be staring at him while my mind is somewhere else. 

He’s not stupid.

But he tries his best to help me adjust.  He understands the burden on me.  He acknowledges the reality, never avoids the topic on Jeff or my upcoming wedding date, and even encourages me to keep talking to my fiancé.  He tries to talk to Jeff too, but I don’t think Jeff is able to talk to him without sounding hostile.  Tom also tries to help me rationalize the whole situation, telling me that “it’s not that bad, darling.  You’re only listening to your heart.  It’s not a crime.”

The worst news I’ve received from Jeff, however, is when he told me that my family and Talia have already arrived in Montreal.  I don’t want to imagine how they have reacted to the fact that I’m not there with Jeff.  As far as they know, I’ve been there for a few days to prepare for the wedding.  And now I’m not even there.  Jeff is making his best efforts to calm them down and distract them by showing them around.  He’s even helped cover for me…I know that he’s probably still in denial, still there hoping that I will go back to him.  Oh, Jeff.  He must be feeling stressed too, clearing up the mess I’ve left behind.  I have betrayed him and yet he refuses to give up on me.

It takes all of me to look sane every day.  And I can’t bear it anymore to hear Tom wiggle uncomfortably on the couch during the night, that I’ve actually asked him to go to bed with me after having him in the living room for…3 nights straight.  Mind you, we’re only there sleeping though, not doing anything more.  He doesn’t want to take advantage of my vulnerable state.  Anyway, he hasn’t been sleeping well, so on the first night when he could sleep in his long bed again, he pretty much went to an instant deep sleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

It brings me a hearty smile one morning when he’s awake and he drapes his hand across my waist to pull me towards him.

“Hmm…”  There’s a throaty sound.  He’s smelling my hair.

I subtly shift my weight in the bed.  But I’m not responding much.  I let him, and myself to have some time to wake up.

He kisses ever so softly on the top of my shoulder blade, like he’s still drifting between dreamland and modern London, and it almost kills all my willpower to suppress my goose bumps.  I stay still, pretending that I’m still sleeping.  After a minute or so, I hear that steady rhythm of his breathing again.  He’s fallen asleep with his right leg trapping me.  I’m his eucalyptus tree.

Look at this.  It should be a dream come true.  So why?

Why do I feel this hollow inside?


	11. The Runaway Bride

Tom is quite busy these days.  I’ve been here for a while and yes we do have meals together every day and try to be keep each other company whenever we can, but even when he’s at home, he’d be working.  He’s got scripts and books to read, phone calls to make and answer, research to do…but on Friday, the day before my planned wedding, he suddenly gets extremely excited after he’s received a phone call.

“Oh yes, of course!  Brilliant!”  He is gesturing at the air as he speaks and pacing back and forth inside the living room.  “Uh huh, uh huh…yes I do remember.”  And then he looks at me and pauses for a second, “Ah wait, is it possible to bring one more person there?” 

 _What?  Bring me where?_  

“No, it’s not.  Yes, I’m aware of that, yes.  But – ” he gets interrupted again but he’s able to continue after a moment.  “Yes, I know.  But it’ll be important to me.  …Thanks, mate.  Alright, sure, I’ll call you back in a sec.”

He hops and throws himself on the spot next to me on the couch right after he hangs up.  Still having the phone in his hand and with his eyes sparkling, he smiles, “Darling, what do you think about going to Madrid for the weekend?”

“Madrid?”

“Yes, Madrid!  I’m sorry that I forgot to mention it earlier but we leave tomorrow.  What do you say?”

_Well, I’ve never been to Spain before so it should be fun.  Besides, to be completely frank, I’m starting to get fairly bored here – I don’t have any British pounds on me and I don’t want to use my credit cards if I don’t absolutely need to.  I don’t feel comfortable enough to have bills piling up in my mailbox back home during my absence.  As a result, I haven’t been out often at all._

“But aren’t you going there for work?  I don’t want to be in your way.”

“Yes I am, but you will certainly not be in my way.  In fact, I think I’ll have some time to show you around a bit,” he turns around to face me better with a cheeky smile and twinkling eyes.  “It’s one of my favourite cities in the world.  Besides, I think it’d help you take your mind off things.”

“Well…” I shrug.   _He’s got a point._

“Please?”  He leans in closer, trying to convince me with those puppy dog eyes.

“…Since you ask so nicely…”

“Great!  Thank you!” He basically just bounces himself towards me, and gives me a quick, happy kiss on the corner of my mouth.  “We’ll have fun, I promise.  Okay, I’ll give them a ring to let them know.”  He resumes his pacing again.

I remain seated, trying to give it sometime to sink in.  _He’s right, you know.  I do need a change of environment.  I’m going crazy here, especially since I do have memories related to Jeff in this place…only the webcam alone brings tears to my eyes every time my mind returns to that night.  I can’t face this anymore.  I seriously need to get away._   _Surely Tom acknowledges the situation but he’s being (almost annoyingly) optimistic all the time while I just want to listen to the saddest songs and drown myself in complete misery because I feel like I don’t deserve happiness at all.  Tom keeps me smiling though…I’ll be forever grateful to him for being the way he is during these energy-draining times.  He’s unbelievable…he’s like a power generator.  But I can’t exploit that – I don’t want him to be constantly surrounded by such negative aura from me._

We start packing for our first ever trip together after Tom’s finished making all the arrangements.  From the responses he gives, I can tell that his work colleagues are not impressed by his suggestion and try to convince him otherwise.  It doesn’t take long for them to give in though, probably because Tom insists in taking me and he swears I won’t bring them any troubles.  I guess it’s nothing serious because as soon as he hangs up again, he’s all grins and even finds me an appropriate bag to pack for the weekend trip.  He starts telling me famous things about Madrid and his favorite spots there…it makes me giggle whenever he starts to speak in Spanish, sometimes with a slight hint of hesitation when he’s not entirely sure with some words but he shouldn’t worry because I wouldn’t have any idea even if he made any mistakes.  I’ve always been attracted to his voice when he speaks in English, but the combination of his voice and Spanish makes me think of things that usually make me blush.

Sleeping is a curious thing.

The harder you try, the less likely you’re going to be able to fall asleep.  My mind refuses to shut up and all I can think about is that the “deadline” is here and Jeff won’t be able to make any more excuses to the wedding attendees for the bride’s absence.  I haven’t talked to him for a bit more than 24 hours but I’m already worrying sick. 

Tom’s fast asleep after a bit of snuggling and some comfortable goodnight kisses, while I’m still wide awake at the edge of the bed, looking at the blurred light (without my glasses) outside the windows.  I’m kept awake by my thoughts and Tom’s dominance in bed…I MEAN!  Not in _that_ way but since he’s such a tall person, he takes a lot of space on the bed.  And I guess he’s not that used to sharing his bed with another pesron, so even it’s all good when he’s awake, when he’s asleep, he unintentionally starts to sleep like he’s on his own again.  I fear that the second I fall asleep, that’s the moment when I’ll roll off bed.

Guess what, that’s exactly what happens in the morning.  I feel as if I’ve only slept for a minute when I feel the movement on the mattress as Tom gets up for his morning routine.  I’ve been clinging so close to the edge of the bed that without thinking, I try to get away from the disturbance when he moves and the next thing I know, I’m on the floor with a thud.

He flips over and peeks from the bed, “Oh my goodness, what’s happened?  Are you alright?”

I start giggling uncontrollably, which turns into a full-on laugh within seconds.

“Darling?  Did you hit your head?”  He reaches down and pats on my arm.

“No…I’m just trying to picture how I went down from your point of view.  I wish I could have seen it!  Hahahaha!”

“I think you have hit your head.”

I’m not responding to his comments, “It’s been quite a while since I last did this!  AAAWESOOOOME!  Woo!”  I hug my stomach to try to stop the laughter but I seriously doubt it works.  I think I’m starting to grow abs from laughing this hard.

“Come on,” he offers his hand.  “Are you hurt?”

I grab his hand but it doesn’t do anything because I’m not really making any efforts to sit back up.  The position isn’t right since my head is too close to the night table.  We pretend to struggle for a while with some groans and more giggles.  Eventually I let it go and climb back up onto the bed instead, sitting next to him with my legs folded under me.

He places his hand on my thigh caringly, looking extraordinarily adorable beyond your imagination, with his bed hair and wrinkled shirt which shows a bit of his lower abs.  “Your laughter is music to my ears,” he croons.

“You’re crazy,” I make a failed attempt to hide my smile.  “And obviously don’t listen to enough music.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “I’m pretty sure you’ve hit your head.  You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do!  Aren’t you supposed to go out and run?”  I lift his hand from my thigh and do a little wavy dance with it.

“I was, until _someone_ fell out of bed like Loki rolled off from the Stark Tower.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Get out.  Go run.”  I point my head at the door.

“I’m going!” He bounces himself off the bed.  “Ah, by the way, it’s not necessary to hurry since our flight leaves in the afternoon but you may want to check again if you have everything you need in the bags.”

“Okay.  Thanks.”

He stops right before he exits the room and turns around, “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

I automatically mirror his smile.

I’ve never joined Tom with his morning run because 1) I know that it’s a time he needs for himself and his thoughts, and 2) I’ve previously hurt my knee and running is not the best exercise for that.  As a result, it gives me some personal time in the morning for me to wake up.  With Tom gone, my initial happiness quickly subsides and is replaced by guilt and worry again.  It’s still early in the morning, and I still have some hours left, but I do owe Jeff an explanation why I’m not in Montreal by now.

Of course I’ve expected some messages from him, but I haven’t expected them to be this heartbreaking.  He’s never written any longer emails to me, or more distressing.  I hesitate before clicking on his email, but I think to myself, I’d better finish reading it and writing back before Tom comes back…I don’t want him to see me sad, especially after he’s tried so hard.

What does it take for a grown man to start begging?  Jeff actually _begs_ in the email.  He tells me where he’s taken my family and Talia to in the past few days (he’s even included some photos…he smiled in them but he looked pale and exhausted), what they’ve done and eaten, and that he hopes I’m well over here…it pains me to see that he’s actually trying to sound happy for me.  But near to the end of the email, it writes,

“ _I don’t want to stand at the end of the aisle without a bride.  Please.  I’m ready to spend my life with you.  What have I done wrong?  Please come, I’m begging you.  I need you.  I need you.  I love you.”_

_I love you too, Jeff._

Out of mere panic, I start to search around online for a last-minute flight.  I run to my bag and fish out my passport and credit card, slam them on the desk in front of me, and go crazy online.

I can’t believe how expensive everything is, and the time doesn’t make any sense at all either.  Some of the flights either require you to make like 2 or 3 stops before you arrive in Montreal, or they’ve got seats left only in Business or First class.  There’s no way I can afford those.  I take a deep breath, and glance at the time.  _Damn.  Even if I go to the airport right now, I won’t be able to make it_.

“Darling, I’m back!” Tom closes the main door.

“Ugh, hi!  Had a nice run?” I try to sound normal from inside the bedroom, not walking out to greet him because my eyes are all red again.

“Oh yes!”  Luckily, he walks past the bedroom and goes straight into the bathroom for his shower after he’s put the kettle on.  I’ve just bought myself some more minutes to return to my normal state.

 _I need to pull myself together. What can you achieve by rushing to Canada now anyway, Julia?  You’ll only arrive after the wedding and that would be even more awkward.  Moreover, you_ have _already chosen.  Stop having second thoughts.  Stick to it._

I can hear the water running in the bathroom.  I’m safe for now.  I need to type fast.  My hands are trembling so much that I keep messing up – constantly hitting “backspace” and retyping the words, through the wall of tears in my eyes.

_Dear Jeff,_

_I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for being so stupid and selfish.  I can’t even ask for your forgiveness.  Thank you for everything you have done…you’re a great guy, so great that I don’t think I deserve you at all.  Thank you for taking care of my family.  Please do let me know if you need any help with the extra expenses._

_I really don’t know what to do…and I don’t know what I’m doing.  I feel confused and fragile, but I do know that I should be here.  I don’t know if I can ever face you or my family ever again.  I sincerely hope that you’ll be fine.  You don’t need to stay friends if you don’t want to, because friends don’t do this to each othe_

“Ready for breakfast, little one?” Tom appears at the bedroom door, drying his hair with a towel.  “Oh dear…”

Hurriedly I wipe the tears away and smile at him, “I’m fine.  Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not!”

I keep smiling, “Yes I am.  It’s okay, I just ah…need to get this over with.  But I’m almost finished with this.  Give me a minute and I’ll go join you for breakfast, alright?”

“…Okay.”  He tussles my hair and then smooths it with a kiss. 

I don’t even know what I’m writing to Jeff.  I’m so messed up and I think whatever it is that’s left between us, it’s utterly unsavable.  Tom’s the only person I’ve got now…I’m lucky that he’s a nice person and as he tells me, he loves me.  Before I log off, I can see an update from Tom on Facebook:

##### Tom Hiddleston **shared a** **link** **via** **WhoSay Broadcast.**

September 22, 2012

Thought for the weekend: #5. "Let yourself be happy".

“Top five regrets of the dying”

I click on the link and read the article carefully… _yes.  This makes sense.  This really speaks to me.  Like you always say, Tom, we should all live without regrets.  I got it._  

That makes me stop crying and feel more comfortable with my decision.

The kitchen already smells like breakfast when I walk in.  Tom gives a shy smile to me as I sit down, looking concerned.  “Thank you for sharing that article,” I say.

“Oh.  That.”

“It’s very meaningful.”

“Yeah…here’s your tea.  And how do you like your eggs?”

There’s one phone call when we’re eating, and I do think it’s Alice because of the way Tom lowers his voice the moment he answers it and excuses himself from the kitchen.  I can hear some faint yelling from the receiver but all Tom does is to glance at me, which makes me feel protected since he doesn’t even put that call through.  He’s determined to keep me from crying or feeling any worse today.  When he hangs up, he acts as though the call isn’t anything important.

A couple of hours later, people from Tom’s work come and pick us up.

I hope I’m only imagining things when I feel the slight hostility from his colleagues.  They do act like I shouldn’t be there at all and they try to separate me from Tom so that he can concentrate on his work.

“Excuse me,” I try to stop a guy who looks like he’s in his 20’s.  “Where can I put my stuff?”

He ignores me.

I stand there to wait until they’ve finished running around to talk to Tom or move the equipment and bags around.  A woman bumps into me with a hard case.  “Move!  Don’t just stand there, we’re in a hurry.”

“Ah, where should I put my bag?” I want to ask for help from Tom but they’re surely keeping him busy, and away from me.


	12. The Dawning of the Crack

I guess I should feel lucky they let me get in the black van even though they make me sit at the very back with the company of several huge black boxes and luggage.  Nobody has talked to me but I have the distant feeling that they know I shouldn’t be here at all and I’m only here because Tom insists in bringing his “playmate” with him, or so they must have assumed.  Tom has made several failed attempts to look in my direction but his crew has done a good job distracting him with preparation of whatever he needs to do in Madrid.

When we arrive in Heathrow, as soon as we hop out of the van, Tom rushes to my side before anyone can grab him again.  “I’m _so_ sorry for whatever they’ve said to you.  It turns out that we’re indeed in a hurry and they were trying to brief me on what I should expect when we are in Madrid,” he lowers his voice after he has a quick glance behind me.   The young guy is loading the bags and boxes off the van when Tom spots something – with two long strides, he claims both our bags as his and drops them at his feet.  “Please also give me your passport,” he whispers as if that’s a secret.

He’s only tucked my passport in his jacket’s inner pocket when that mean woman in a blazer and dark jeans interrupts us, letting her handbag hang from her elbow joint like she’s Paris Hilton, “Excuse me.”  Her words are definitely directed to me more than to Tom because it only takes her two seconds to lead Tom away from me again.  I have no choice but to tag along, trying not to lose sight of them in the crowd.  Thank God Tom is tall.

We all (there are two other older men in the group) march towards the check-in counter for the priority line.  The woman, whose name is probably Liz from what I’ve overheard from their conversations, collects all the passports from the team for the airline check-in staff.  But when she’s about to ask for Tom’s, Tom politely declines and personally hands two passports over the counter, before saying something to the airline staff which makes her nod as she types.  Liz looks a bit taken aback but she follows suit and puts the rest of the burgundy booklets on the counter.

Liz wasn’t bluffing about running late.  We don’t have any time for the lounge and walk straight to the gate.  People are already boarding when we’re there, but we can once again take the priority line since we’re travelling in business class.  Tom hasn’t said much to me until we’re on the plane.  He’s specifically asked the staff to seat us together.

It’s a relatively small plane compared to the ones I usually fly on for my intercontinental flights.  But since this one is only flying from London to Madrid, and it’s only a two-hour-fifteen-minute flight, I guess this is already quite big.  There are only two seats on each side, separated by a single aisle, in the business class.  There’s no first class on this flight and I suspect it’s going to be a three-three seating plan at the back for the Economy.  Tom and I sit in 1D and 1F, with the partition right in front of us, and we’re surrounded by the rest of the group.

“Just before I switch this off…” Tom takes out his mobile phone and starts typing.  I distract myself by looking around, checking if my phone is off and staring at the flight attendant’s uniform.  “Julia, look!”  He shows the phone screen right in front of my face and I read:

_On my way to Madrid, one of my favourite cities in the world. Perfect day._ _http://www.timestalksmadrid.com/_

“Perfect day, huh?” I smirk.

“Of course!  I’m here with you instead of being surrounded by only the boring bunch, it can’t be any more perfect!”

“Oi!” One of the older men from the team who’s sitting behind him kicks the back of his seat.  “We can hear ya!”

“Ehehehehee!” Tom shakes his head, and then focuses on posting that tweet before he’s not allowed to do that anymore.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a female voice can be heard from the speakers shortly after the doors are closed.  “Welcome aboard British Airways flight 464, with non-stop service from London to Madrid.  Our flight time will be of two hours and fifteen minutes…”

“It’s going to be our first trip together!” Tom looks incredibly excited and grasps my hand that was previously laid on the armrest.  “Madrid is going to become my second favourite city in the world.”

“Which one is the first?”

“Why, London of course!”

“Ahem!”  Liz clears her throat, looking in our direction with intimidating eyes and creased forehead.

Tom immediately lets go of my hand, and with his back turned toward Liz, gives me a quick, private kiss.  “Sorry, darling.  I hope you’ll understand that since this is one of the publicity events, I’ve been reminded to keep the media attention on Times Talks.  Ahm… “ He looks up to the overhead light while searching for his thoughts.  “They’re saying…aah…it’d be best not to let anyone find out about us.  At least not for the time being.  I…I hope you can understand that?”

I nod.  I do feel a little disappointed but I see what he means.

“I do not enjoy it either, but these people know what they’re doing, so I guess I should take their advice.  But soon, I promise you, I’ll try to negotiate with them and see what can be done.  It’s absurd to ask you to hide.”

I shake my head, “No you don’t need to promise anything.  I understand.  I don’t want to become a burden, you know?”

The plane speeds up for its takeoff on the runway.  Our hands meet once again on our shared armrest and in the loud humming noise, I think he says, “You’re never a burden.  Never.”

The flight is generally uneventful but smooth.  It’s always a lot more fun to fly with someone instead of by yourself because you can at least talk to somebody and have them to look after your belongings when you use the lavatory.  Tom tells me more about what I’ll need to be aware of when we’re there in Madrid.  Basically I’ll need to pretend I’m one of his assistants.  The younger guy, who they call Benny (somehow it brings me a strange feeling of _déjà vu like I’ve heard this name before somewhere…hm), gives me a lanyard with a red plastic name badge right after we finish our in-flight meal, and tells me that I should wear it around my neck whenever I’m with them or else I may be denied access to restricted areas._

_It’s good to be told all these because by listening to all these instructions and making sure I follow them properly, I don’t have any time left to think about my stupid emotions.  I’m pretty sure Jeff hates my guts now…my parents will probably grill me next time when they manage to get a hold of me.  Alice certainly hates me for not listening to her, and well…I guess Talia won’t judge me but I don’t think she agrees with my actions either._

_Madrid is noticeably much warmer than London, a fact that I’m thankful for even though Tom seems to be more adapted to colder weather.  Fortunately it’s not_ _that_ _warm so he’s still fine.  Our plane lands in late afternoon.  It does seem that we still have a few hours before Tom’s scheduled interview at the Teatro Fernán Gómez at 9pm but the truth is, they should have booked an earlier flight.  I heard them argue about it quietly when they were on the plane._

_Imagine my horror when we approach the passport checkpoint, and I see that all EU citizens and non-EU citizens are separated into two lines, with mine being 20 times longer than Tom and his team’s.  Not that it’s a surprise for me, but I’ve completely forgotten about it,_ _and_ _Liz looks like she wants to strangle me right there and then when I interrupt them before they all walk towards the EU line._

_“There’s_ _no way_ _we’ll wait for you,” Liz snorts.  “Do you know the address of the hotel we’ll be staying at?”_

_“I…”_ _I have absolutely no idea.  This is such a spontaneous trip._

_“We’ll be at Ritz.  Show your badge to the front desk and they’ll bring you to us.”  Liz is speaking at the speed of a machine gun._

_“But –“_ _I don’t even have any Euro on me.  Do the taxis here take credit cards?  And gosh, am I being left alone in a foreign country which I’ve never been to, without any preparation?  Tom said it’s gonna be fun!_

“I’ll wait for her,” Tom offers.

“Don’t be ridiculous!  You’re the last person –“ Liz snaps.

“No stopping!” A security guard starts to walk towards us to shoo us off, since we’re standing in a sensitive area and we’re also in the way of other passengers.  “You need to keep walking!”

We all obey but it means I’m walking away from the rest of the crew.  _Okay.  Taxi, credit card?  Ritz.  Ritz.  Where’s my landing card?_

“Julia!” I’ve never heard Tom raise his voice like that out of panic.  We keep our eyes on each other until we are no longer able to do that anymore.  He gives me a subtle, yet assuring nod, right before he disappears behind a wall.

This is not comforting at all.  I don’t have the e-ticket printouts, I don’t have the copies of the hotel reservation, and I can only vaguely remember that we’re going to be here for the weekend.  What am I going to answer if I get asked that?  Of course, the customs officer I got was in a foul mood, and he demanded to see the proof of my return flight.  When I explained to him that all the documents were with my friends, he told me to point out where my friends were but they were already long gone.  He almost denied my entry when I suddenly remembered my name badge, which I took it out and slammed it on the counter like a crazy person.  I still don’t know why but _that_ seemed to work, and he let me pass.

 _Alright.  One down, some more to go.  Ritz.  I’ll need to go to Ritz.  Do they have special shuttles for it from the airport?  Ah wait.  Did Tom already claim my bag for me or is it still going around on the carousel?_  

They must have left and yet I find myself looking around to see if there’s any sign of Tom.  _Sigh, I’m completely hopeless._ I walk around the carousel twice to make sure they’re not here anymore before looking for my own bag.

“Yo.”  A guy calls out to me.  But I’m not 100% sure so I choose to ignore him and keep walking.  Besides, I’ve traveled often enough to know that con artists do work at the airports.

“Hey yo,” he speaks up.  “Julia!”

I turn around.  It’s Benny.  And he’s godsent.   “Oh my god.” 

He shrugs with this “yeah I know…” expression on his face, “They let me stay behind to wait for ya.  Tom that nutter was ready to give me a snog or somethin’ when he heard that!”  He shakes his head in mock horror.

“Thank you _so_ much!  I was really freaking out back there.  The guy asked for all kinds of papers that I couldn’t provide but luckily,” I lift my badge in front of my face.  “I showed him this and he let me through.”

“Yeah you’d better keep that with ya at all times.  It’s useful.  Anyway,” he bends down and picks up two bags, one of them mine.  “This one is yours, correct?”

I nod.

“Alright, let’s go then.  The hotel is only around 15 minutes away from here so we’ll be able to join them soon enough.”

Benny is a lot nicer than I thought.  I don’t really dare to ask how old he is but I think he’s around my age.  He’s not as tall as Tom but he seems to be quite well-built, and I guess he’s the go-to guy for all kinds of heavy lifting or any physical works.  That’s probably why I haven’t even asked him to let me carry my own bag.  I guess I must have assumed that he’s used to it.

“So,” he starts as soon as he’s given the name of our destination to the taxi driver in accented Spanish.  “I hope you don’t mind me asking…I’ve worked with Tom for a while now but I’ve never seen him bringing someone along to work.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s definitely a first.  _Who_ are you?  Are you his special lady?”

“Erm…wow.  I don’t know,” I bite my lip.  “It’s kinda…”

“Complicated?”  He suggests.  “I know it’s none of my business, but you seem to be a nice person, and I’ve seen it all in the showbiz.”

“What do you mean?”  I frown.  _He can’t mean that he’s seen a side of Tom that I haven’t seen yet, can he?_

“There’s a reason why many of those celebs are either single or divorced.  This job kills all kinds of relationships – friendship, romance, family…Tom is a good lad, that I know for sure.  And as far as I can tell, he’s crazy for ya.  But there are a lot of things he can’t control when he’s in the biz, y’see?  Liz may seem like a bitch but she gets the job done.  She keeps everything in order.  It’s nothing against you but you see my point here?”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“I’m only trying to prepare you for later.  See, if you’re indeed Tom’s special lady, you’ll need to start getting used to it.”


	13. The Corridors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: REALLY sorry for the late update. Some of you may know that I've been working 7 days a week recently but I still try to write whenever I can. BTW, the GIFs I've seen earlier today of Luke pulling Tom away made me giggle because I've written a scene related to that in this chapter some days ago. It's not Luke though in the story but I guess we can all easily picture Tom doing something like that :P Thanks for sticking with me, you all. You're fantastic!!! xx

It’s been over an hour since our plane landed and finally Benny and I are at the hotel.  It’s not seven yet but it’s going to be quite soon.  Benny made a quick phone call when we were still in the taxi to ask the whereabouts of the others, so he’s able to lead me straight to the floor where we’re supposed to be.

The taxi drops us off at the end of a row of buildings standing across a huge circular plaza with some sort of monument in the center.  My eyes are immediately greeted by three tall, heavily-ornate black iron gates, with a gold-plated “R” on top of each.  The Ritz hotel.

“ _Buenas tardes_ ,” greets the doorman.  I take the time to smile and nod at him even though Benny is making me walk as fast as I can.

Wow.

Everything I see is marble - marble floor, marble columns…and then there’s this crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the main lobby.  There is a carpeted grand staircase on one side, and beautifully arranged plants are all around us too.  I try to keep up with Benny and do my best not to walk into anything from looking around too much.

“You’ll have your time later.  C’mon, we must get to them now.”  Benny walks faster than me even with the two full bags in each of his hands.

I don’t say anything but to follow closely.  I don’t want to be left alone again.

The thick carpet makes me feel like I’m walking on marshmallows, it feels so comfortable that it instantly puts me in a good mood.  I  _am_  aware though, buried deeply in my mind, I’m doing the calculations on the time difference and I know I’m only two hours away from my wedding, which was planned to happen on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

I glance back when we’re walking along the corridor.  I don’t know why.  There’s nobody and nothing behind us.  I simply feel like…I should look back.

The door is flung open the second Benny knocks at the door, revealing a wild Liz.  Her eyes sweep across Benny briefly and then burns into me.  “He’s ready for you,” she says to him but keeps her stare on my face.  I’m still standing at the door.

The room is smelling strangely refreshing with the fragrance from the vaporized shampoo and soap floating out from the bathroom, mixed with the stronger, artificial scent of unidentified personal care products like deodorant or hair products.  It’s quite noisy inside the room, however, since the hair dryer is plugged in and someone seems to be testing it.  I close the door behind me when Liz finally finishes burning a hole in my skull with her eyes, and follows the noise further into the room.

I can’t help it but my jaw drops on the floor in awe right away because these are real professionals at work – they’ve transformed the sitting room into a temporary make up room.  A wheeled coat rack has materialized in the middle of the room; a set of suit is hung on it and a pair of well polished black leather shoes are tidily placed underneath.  The room is not that tiny but with all these stuff and people in here, it gets really crowded.  Tom’s on the chair in a simple white tee and casual pants, his eyes are closed as Benny has rushed to take care of his hair.  Liz’s phone starts ringing and she tries to take it behind the wall of the bedroom’s.

“Julia?” Tom asks uncertainly because I haven’t said anything since I’ve come in here.  And also because Benny’s told him to keep his eyes shut as he holds a hairspray can right in front of his face.  “Are you here?”

“Yeah, thanks to Benny.”

He lets out a relieved sigh.

“You’re welcome, love.  Besides,” Benny pulls on Tom’s short hair harder than he needs to, just enough to get his attention but inevitably messing up his do.  “Gotta keep this nutter happy now, right?”

“Ehehehee!” He throws his head back in a fit of giggles, as usual.  The only thing that’s different is that he’s having his hair styled at the same time.

“I need to remind you that we’re  _really_ in a hurry.” Liz reemerges from the room and scolds us, not in a loud voice but enough to shut us all up.  I sink my butt in the chair in the corner, trying to get away from Liz’s radar.

Benny doesn’t look the type but he finishes styling Tom’s hair in record time – both because Tom’s hair is so short at the moment and also Benny knows exactly what he’s doing.  A quick glance at the scattered cosmetics on the coffee table next to them tells me that Tom’s already had his makeup done.  I know it’s much harder to tell on men than women but I think he does look a bit more energized and the colors on his face look more even.

“Good…just this bit…” Benny bends down and runs his fingers through Tom’s hair one last time, carefully adjusts some strands, but I can’t even tell if that matters because to me it doesn’t look any different.  “Fantastic!”  He straightens up and gives an audible slap on Tom’s shoulder, “You’re all set.”

“Thanks, mate.” Tom hops up and takes his suit from the rack, winks at me and disappears behind the double doors that lead into the bedroom.  Liz sits opposite me, talking on the phone in Spanish, so politely that it’s obvious that she’s liaising with the organizer of the event Tom’s going to attend.  But all the while when she’s on the phone, she stares at me from behind her black-rimmed spectacles, swinging her crossed leg, showing her heel that’s escaped from her black peep-toe shoes.  I try to look everywhere but her.   _Why doesn’t she like me?  I’m not really causing any troubles to them, am I?  I didn’t even ask to be here in the first place and she knows it._

The sound of the doors being opened catch my attention – Tom walks out in this black suit with a satiny detail along the collar and the side of the trousers.  Inside he wears a simple white shirt but leaves the first couple of buttons undone.  “I forgot my shoes.”  He goes and gets them, sits down in one of the armchairs to tie the laces.

He looks gorgeous.  So gorgeous that I’ve almost forgotten about Canada.  Well, apparently, “almost”.

Liz’s phone rings again, five seconds after she’s finished with her previous call.  “Yes?”  Three seconds pass.  And then she announces, “John is already waiting for us downstairs, is everyone ready?”

Nobody really says anything clearly but mumbles “yeah”, “uh huh”. 

“Benny, is he ready?” Liz points at Tom with the phone in her hand.

“Yep.” He nods confidently.

“Tom?” Liz confirms.

“Ready to go!’

I need to hide my gulp when Tom stands back up.  Yes I’ve seen him in a suit before, in photos, and the other time when I went out with him?  He was in a vest.  But it doesn’t matter if I’ve seen him in a suit before or not – this man was born with the glorious purpose of wearing tailored suits.

Not really sure what my position is, I stick to Benny instead of Tom because as he’s told me before, I need to pose as one of the staff.  I don’t want my head to be chopped off by Liz either so it’s better to hide in the background and let Liz do her job.

Benny and I follow them down and walk out from the hotel.  Tom’s “army” is really resourceful as some of them are already there waiting for him.  Liz walks out first, followed closely by Tom, and when they’re surrounded by less than a dozen of fans (phew) who’re asking for autographs, Benny and I hop into the back of the van to wait for them.  One of the older men who I met before, John, is driving, and the remaining man is missing, I guess he’s there at the venue taking care of things.  I really have no idea how they work.  I’m only thinking as an outsider, using my common sense.

I keep touching my red name badge to check if it’s still there because the last thing I want is to be separated from the group and Tom in a foreign country.  It makes me proud to look at him through the car window – he’s so nice to his fans and that genuine, contagious smile which has bewitched me in the first place still does thing to my heart.

Liz lets Tom have a few minutes with his fans but she’s frowning and checking the time constantly.  Soon she gives him a signal and pulls him away to get into the vehicle.

“…but I’m nobody without them.  I need to do this.” I can hear Tom say that as he climbs in.

“I understand,” Liz follows after him.  John starts the van immediately once the door is slammed close.  “But you know damn well that we need to make it there as soon as possible.”  She raises her palm to make the “stop” sign, “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do any of these, but perhaps you can consider cutting it down?  It’s impossible to make everyone happy.” 

“Well, that’s why I need you here, isn’t it?” Tom smiles and nods reassuringly.  “But if it makes you feel any better, I promise you that I won’t bring you any headache.  As soon as you tell me that it’s time to go, then we go, okay?”

Liz shakes her head with a smirk, “I gotta give Luke a ring to ask him how to deal with you.”

_Teatro Fernán Gómez is only a 3-minute drive away.  The seats aren’t even warm before we need to get out of the van again.  Tom manages to say to me, “I’ll see you later.” before he’s whisked away by Liz again and they disappear through the doors.  I try to stick to Benny but he’s rushing about and it’d be annoying to follow him everywhere like a lost puppy.  I end up staying in a room where he’s put down one of the black cases.  I reckon he’ll be back and then I can follow him to go see Tom being interviewed._

I hate all those white corridors and identical doors – there are definitely not enough signs (on top of the fact that most of them are in Spanish and I can’t really read them) so they all seem so scary.  I’m scared of being left alone because I’m sure that I’d get lost in here.  I can hear distant chatters echoing in the corridors, bouncing off the white walls and the shiny dark green floor.  I take a peek outside of the door when Benny doesn’t come back after ten whole minutes, and it’s only about 15 minutes away from Tom’s scheduled interview.  I’m starting to freak out –  _what if Benny was meant to leave that black case in this room and not coming back to retrieve it?  Do they even remember I’m here?  Liz would surely be happy to go on without me._ The corridor looks empty.  I try to pick up the direction the sounds come from, but I’m too chicken to wander too far away from the room I was in.  I’ve already made two turns and if I walk away any further I don’t think I’ll remember my way back.  It’d be better to stay in that room, at least Benny would know where I am if he remembers me.  Yeah, I should go back.

Wait.  I can hear approaching footsteps.

_Look normal.  Look like you know where you’re going or at least look like you belong here.  You have a name badge.  You’re acting way too suspiciously here, snooping around in the non-public area._

And then I hear Tom’s voice.  He’s talking to some other men and they’re approaching where I’m standing right now even though I still can’t see them.  It instantly makes me feel 100 times more secure and relieved, nevertheless.  I can simply follow him to wherever he’s having the interview and I can even wish him good luck.  Benny may be with him too.

I step back and stick my back to the wall, smiling while making way for the group to pass.  Tom’s looking as stunning as ever – he’s the tallest in the whole group and that kind of glowing confidence makes him look a thousand times more attractive.  Liz is there too tagging along at the back of the group.  I grin at Tom, giving him a little wave.  He sees me but then he immediately turns his attention back to the man he’s talking to. 

Or did he really see me?

They’re only about 3 metres away now and they’re so near that I can almost smell Tom’s aftershave. 

“Hi Tom – “ I look at him with big, sparkling, excited eyes, grinning from ear to ear.

He’s smiling while he’s talking to the man and with that smile still on his face, he gives me a nanosecond-kind-of-brief glance and continues on, passing right in front of me.  I hate to admit it but even Liz spends a much longer time to acknowledge my existence.  I freeze right there, trying to compute what’s just happened.  I know that I’m posing as one of his team members, but I don’t even deserve a nod or something?  

They’re quickly moving away so I catch up with them in spite of what’s happened because I seriously don’t want to be left alone like that.  Benny is nowhere to be seen and the deserted corridors are not very welcoming.

I follow them to the door that leads to the backstage of a theatre hall.  Nobody even bothers to check my badge as I continue to pretend I’m supposed to be there.  I keep it visible to the others though, intentionally leave it hanging on top of my shawl.  Tom’s standing right behind where the spotlights can reach, when Benny (finally!) is checking his hair and clothes frantically, and there’s a middle-aged man wearing a pair of glasses and having a rolled pile of papers standing next to him.  They’re both listening intently to the two women who are now speaking on the stage.

I can hear loud cheers and applause when Tom walks out to the stage with that man.  I guess he’s the interviewer then.

It’s a rather long interview, which is supposed to last for an hour.  Tom is absolutely compelling on stage.  He’s born to shine in front of an audience.  I can’t hear clearly what he says because in the backstage, everything sounds a bit muffled and smudged.  All I can see is his back.  But the way he moves, he gestures, and even the way he leans back in his seat, are all so captivating.  Still, I can’t understand why he didn’t seem to see me when he walked past earlier.  The people around me are more relaxed than before, not really having much to do except to sit there and stand by in case of anything happened.  Benny whispers to me when he sits down, “Where the hell have you been?”

“I was waiting for you in the room you left me in!” I can’t believe it.

“What room?” He’s authentically confused.

“The room you put the black case in!  I did tell you that I was gonna wait for you there, the room with the big oval table, remember?”

“Did you say that?” He winces and wrinkles the bridge of his nose.  “Oh well, good thing that we haven’t lost ya!  I was wonderin’ if you got lost looking for the loo or somethin’.”

I sulk and grunt.  No doubt I’m the VUP here – Very Unimportant Person.

“Do we still have anything to do after the interview?” I ask Benny after a while, of course still in a whisper because the interview goes on out there.  He’s checking himself out in the mirrored wall, which is next to where we’re sitting.  It’s quite dark in here but it doesn’t stop him from rearranging his hair.

“Hm?”

“Is there anywhere we still need to go after this?”

“Oh God no, it’ll be quite late anyway.  And I’m starvin’!”

“Me too.”

When the interview is finally over, the fans come to the front of the stage to give Tom some presents.  I stand up and walk towards the light as soon as the interview has stopped but now I end up staying in the dark looking at the interaction between Tom and his fans.  Someone even gives him a Loki helmet to try on!   It’s not a big crowd so everything they ask, he gladly obliges.  I can’t help but feel a little prick in my heart because of how openly his fans can declare their feelings to him and how publicly too he can call them “darlings”, take photos with them, and even wrap them in his arms.  All the while I’m here hiding in the dark, pretending that I’m nobody but a staff member, being forgotten and left behind.  Well, at least I’m still the one he shares his room with tonight.

_Come on, you must have foreseen this before you get yourself into this.  He’s a celebrity and of course he lives in a different world than yours.  And he’s already doing his best to take care of you and show you his affection.  These are out of his control.  He’s a public figure and he can’t simply do everything he likes.  He makes sacrifices too so you really shouldn’t think in such a selfish way.  I guess I should be someone he can rely on and never put any extra burden on him.  After all, like they often say, show business is a very lonely business.  I should be there for him._

Taking one last look at Tom grinning as he receives yet another pretty paper bag from a fan, I turn my head away and return into the darkness to join the rest of the mortals.


	14. Madrid Holiday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Again, my most heartfelt gratitude to you all for being so amazing. My work has been so busy that if there weren't a public holiday today, I wouldn't have been able to type that much. Also I needed to figure out a way to link different scenes together but also take care of the characters' and plot development at the same time so...yeah it took a while ^^ The biggest thanks to my good friend Tatiana for the help on the Spanish lines (I know nothing about Spanish!) :D Hope you enjoy the new chapter :)

Tom comes back to the backstage sooner than I expected.  I wonder if he’s got dragged away by one of the staff again.  (The thought makes me shake my head and roll my eyes.)  I have barely sat back down next to Benny when Tom, the interviewer and a few of the other people come to join us. They’re holding a lot of presents from Tom’s fans in their hands.  The lights are turned back on now and I can see the leftover glow on Tom’s face.

He truly was born to be onstage.  It’s the place that truly makes him happy.  No one would ever find it difficult to tell him apart from the rest of us because he’s simply so exceptional.  He can be dressed in rags or not wash his hair for two weeks but none of these would do anything to hide his bright shine.  Everything he does shows that he’s a star.

I stick with Benny this time when Tom is pulled away for more photo shoots.  No matter where Benny goes I follow.  Good thing that he doesn’t need to use the washroom or else I might have followed him inside.

When we’re back to the Ritz, Liz gives me another send-shivers-down-my-spine look after the team has cleared the mess they’ve left behind before we went to the theatre.  She’s about to leave the room to take a rest in her own room, thankfully.  I hug my knees on the sofa, trying to keep some distance from Tom when the others are still here.

She glances at me, and then she waves at Tom, “G’night, Tom.  You did great tonight.”

“It’s all thanks to you!  Good night, Liz.  Good night, Benny.”  Tom smiles with pressed lips and gives a little wave to everybody.  He walks them to the door and closes it behind them with a soft click.

I put my feet back on the carpeted floor and look up at Tom as he returns to the sitting area, “Yeah, you were awesome in the interview.”  Somehow that comes out rather coyly.

“Thanks, darling.”  He slumps down in the sofa looking exhausted.  He stretches one arm towards me, resting it on the backrest of the seats.  Knees are wide apart in a relaxed way.  He lets out a sigh and runs his fingers of the other hand through his hair, “Wow,” he exclaims.  “I’m going to wash these out, or it’s going to be horrible in the morning.”  And with that declaration he stands up for the bathroom, “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“No prob’,” I throw my head back on the backrest and look at the ceiling, only to have my view blocked by a dark shadow before receiving the most tender kiss.

“Thank you for being here with me, Julia.” I can feel his hot breath on my face.

I lick my lips but it’s more of a subconscious action.  Somehow I avoid his gaze, “Thank you for taking me here.”

In spite of his tendency of speaking a lot, he doesn’t say anything except to kiss my forehead and bend down to give me a wholehearted hug.   _Oh, I love his hugs._   “You’re the best,” he holds my shoulders and looks me in the eyes, “And I love you.”

I reply with a shy smile.

“Alright,” he announces again.  “I’ll be right back.”

I stay on the couch.   _Sometimes I hate the English language because there are no different words for different kinds of love.  You use the same word for the love you have towards your computer or a good meal, and the same word for your best friend, mother, and lover.  In this case, Tom’s own fans too.  He also_ loves _his fans.  But how is that “love” different from the way he says he loves me?_

_Sigh, I’m probably thinking too much again.  I shouldn’t feel envious of his fans.  After all, I was, and still am, one of them._

_It should have stayed like that._

_I should have…I should have become a “Mrs.” by now but here I am, hiding from everyone I know except Tom.  My whole world now revolves around him…Is he, is he really worth it?  I’m putting all my eggs in one basket._

The sudden shift of weight on the sofa yanks my mind back to the hotel room.  I open my eyes.  Tom’s reappeared next to me again with a towel around his neck, “Hey, if you’re sleepy you should go to bed.  It’s much more comfortable there.”

“Oh,” I suddenly feel guilty simply from looking at him, feeling that I shouldn’t have doubted what we’re sharing right now.  “I erm, I wasn’t sleeping.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.”  He dries his hair some more with the towel, “it’s late anyway.  You should go to bed, I’ll come and join you soon.”  Seeing that there’s no reason to say no, and Tom’s smelling so fresh while I’m still in the same clothes since this morning, I give in, even though that makes me feel like I haven’t accomplished anything at all for the entire day.

After some quiet moments for separate pre-bedtime routines, Tom and I are in bed together.  I’ve gotten more used to it now especially I know that Tom wouldn’t try to do anything that I’m not ready for.  I feel safe to be in the same bed with him.  He looks quite tired but even with his eyes closed, he tries to chat with me a bit before we fall asleep.

“Julia,” he adjusts his head on the pillow.  “How do you like Madrid so far?”

I feel comfortable with looking at him so closely since he’s not looking back at me.  “Well, I haven’t seen it enough to know what it’s really like.”

“Ah yeah,” his voice has reduced into a velvety whisper.  “I should…” his right hand reaches up and grabs the pillow for comfort.  “We should go out and see…” he decides to drape his arm over my waist instead.  “…ah…Madrid, to-tomorrow.”

“Sleep, Tom.  Sleep.”   My own voice hypnotizes myself as effectively as it does to Tom.  He seems to have fallen asleep before I finally let it go and close my eyes.

I’m not scared of falling asleep because I would be way too exhausted to dream tonight.

***

A notification sound from Tom’s phone wakes him up and when he crawls to get his phone from the nightstand on his side, he wakes me up too because it gives me goose bumps with the sudden loss of body heat.  At least it’s already morning, or else I would be in a murderous mood if I were woken up in the middle of the night.

I wait until he reclaims the spot that’s gone cold from his absence, “Hmm…work?”  My voice is husky since these are the first words I’m speaking this morning.

“Oh, you’re up.”  Tom breathes through his nose audibly and pulls me closer, my back is warmed again by his chest.  “And yeah, work.  Liz’s just sent me a text telling me about some short interviews I’ll need to have with the local magazines today.”

“Okay.” I reply softly and curve into a ball under the duvet.

“But we’ll still go out and see the city, I promise.  I’ll just check with Liz how long those interviews are gonna last.”

“No, no, it’s okay, really.”  I flip around and look at him in the eyes, even though I’m not wearing my glasses.  “You’re here to work, Tom.  I understand.  Please don’t let me get in the way.  Your work should be your first priority, not me.”

An evanescent sadness and disappointment pass through his eyes, but he recovers quickly and reassures me, “Please, sweetheart, don’t you ever say anything like that.  You do not come after my job.  Not now, not ever.”

“But –“

“Darling, I’m serious.”  He wrinkles his forehead.

I massage the back of my neck absent-mindedly, “…Okay.”

He gazes at me, full of emotions, and smiles.  Our faces are so close to each other that it’s starting to make me blush, but right before it becomes uncomfortable Tom decides to put his phone aside to free his arms for me.   _I think I made the wrong move to turn to face him_.  One of his hands is now on my lower back while the other is idly sweeping my hair away from my forehead.  His fingertips actually feel a bit cold, I wonder if it’s because he’s turned the air condition up since he likes it cool in the room.  Our legs are casually entwined.  I keep my arms folded separately in front of my chest, with the ball of my thumbs touching my collarbones.  I don’t know why, but it makes me feel safer.  I just realize that I’m subconsciously blocking my boobs from Tom’s chest too. 

He pulls me in for a kiss.

His lips are dry but still soft inside the parched skin.  They’re cool and yet they’re able to make you feel warm, like,  _really_  warm.  His kisses are so different from Jeff’s.  Perhaps Tom has more practice and so he seems to know better how to switch your brain off fast with those damned kisses of his. 

_This is getting a bit borderline for me.  I’ve just left my fiancé yesterday, and now I’m here making out with my little boyfriend in bed._

I close my eyes and push him away with the arms that are trapped between us to break our kiss.  I immediately avoid his eyes, “Sorry.  I just…I ah…”  I force myself to look at him and his flushed cheeks and now-moisturized lips.  Those eyes.  They make my heart skip a beat.  I don’t know where this guilt comes from but all I manage to respond to this moment is, “I just want to say that…I’m sure we’re going to have a great day.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”  Another kiss from him, only shorter and lighter.

***

Tom confirms his schedule with Liz and we set up a time to meet up later after he’s finished his interviews in the morning.  It’ll be noon when we meet again but I’m already ready to go much earlier than that.  It was something like  _30ºC_  yesterday and today’s temperature seems to be similar but a tad bit cooler.  I like this kind of weather though since I’m quite adapted to warm weather.  I’m wearing a warm yellow gathered skirt with a cream lace sleeveless top, and a pair of pastel pink flats.  Tom’s right about taking my mind off things, because the love of traveling is in my genes, and when Tom’s out for his work, I actually went downstairs to the concierge to ask for their recommendations on sites to check out around the hotel.  Apparently the hotel is surrounded by three good museums and they gave me introductory brochures for each of them.  They also recommended the park nearby, the royal palace, a church and a temple.  They emphasized that the temple would be a romantic place to be at sunset.  They also mentioned a sweet shop which immediately caught my attention due to Tom’s sweet tooth.  I’ll see if I’ll be able to get something for him there.  I declined their offer though when they suggested some day tours, to which I replied I needed to consult my “friend” first.  I’ll wait until he’s back, and if he doesn’t have any concrete plan I’d just show him these to tell him what I’m interested in seeing.

It’s still more than half an hour away from the time we’re supposed to meet, but I’m already bored to death.  I’ve read the brochures twice like they were study materials, and channel surfed on the TV for a bit.  I’ve decided to take a look around the hotel.  I did think about checking out the Retiro Park but it seems to be too big for a few minutes’ stroll.  I’ll just walk around the block and return to the lobby to wait for Tom when it’s time.

I nod at the doorman on my way out.  I notice it’s the same man I saw when I first came here with Benny.  The day is simply too perfect to stay indoors.  I can instantly feel the heat from the sun on my shoulders and my eyes squint at the bright sunlight.  People are out too strolling about like it’s still summer.  I pull and hug my baguette bag closer to my chest and start walking.  There seems to be quite a lot of tourists.  It’s good because I love watching them.  It always makes me wonder where they’re from and why they’re here.  I especially enjoy looking at the old couples who travel together, like that couple over there, who’re just sitting there on the bench under the trees, sharing an ice-cream.   _Is it a trip in Madrid that they’ve promised to each other long ago?  Will I ever experience something like this when I grow old?  Will Tom always love eating sweet stuff?_   I giggle at the image of Tom and his pudding, and am about to make the final turn to go back to the hotel when I hear,

“Hola guapa!”

Wow.  That guy surely is excited to see his friend.  I raise my brows and keep walking.  Tom should be there in 10 minutes or so, I should turn my phone back on just in case he’ll be stuck at work or something.

“Ay, hola!”

I look up and see a young man approaching me with a smile on his face.  He’s in a simple navy blue tee and matching jeans.  I can’t see his eyes though because they’re behind a pair of sunglasses.  I take a quick glance around me and confirm that he’s really talking to me.  My alert mode kicks in.  I hastily shove my phone back into my bag as my feet take me towards the Ritz gates as fast as they can.

I should have run.  He’s too fast for me to get rid of and is already now walking beside me, “Que tal, guapa?”

There’s no way I would give him any kind of response.  God knows what he wants.  He could be a member of some human trafficking gang for all I know.  The Ritz is right ahead but now I’m struggling if I should go back because he’ll be able to know where I’m staying at.  But if I don’t go back, there’s nowhere else I can go.

“Vamos, ven conmigo bela, por favor, sólo un café, sí?”

I keep my mouth tightly shut and no matter what, I’m not giving that guy any attention he’s asking for.  I start picking up my speed and half-run to the hotel entrance.  I guess he thinks it’s not worth the trouble so when I’ve jogged past the doorman and looked back, that guy is already walking away. 

“Madam, are you okay?”  The doorman asks with concern on his face.

“Ah, yes.  Just ah…that guy there,” I point at him.  “I don’t know him.”

“Oh,” he nods knowingly.  “Sometimes they are like that.  But it would be better to walk around with your boyfriend.”

“I –“ I was about to explain on his choice of word but then I decide to smile and answer, “Yes, thank you.”

I wander into the grand circular lobby and take my phone out to check if Tom has sent me anything.  There is none, so perhaps there’s no interruption and he’ll be there on time.  But sometimes it does take a while for the messages to arrive so…well he can be here anytime now, I’m just going to sit there in the lobby bar and keep an eye on the main entrance.

Throwing my baguette bag on the chair, I smooth my skirt before sitting down, not wanting it to wrinkle because I want to look perfect for Tom.  After all, I was still in a mess when he went out this morning.  I need to admit, he’s still giving me all these butterflies in my stomach because hey, we’ve only known each other for less than a month.  I haven’t fully accepted the fact that I’m actually dating my favorite actor.

A waitress appears and places the menu on the coffee table in front of me, but I tell her that I’d like an orange juice straight away.   _I want something fruity and fresh.  That would taste good for a kiss_.  I bite my lower lip.   _Well, well, well…that’s an interesting thought.  My head actually feels clearer today than it did yesterday – probably since all the bridges are already burnt so…why not focus on this?  I’ve already strapped myself on the ride so I might as well enjoy it._   I keep my phone where I can see it, and I only sip my juice little by little so that I won’t be asked if I want another overpriced drink too soon.  And even if he’s late I can still pretend to have just got there and so he won’t need to apologize for it.

Of course it doesn’t matter how slowly I’m sipping my orange juice, since there’s still no sign of him after 45 minutes – there’s no call, no text, nothing.  I’m too scared of missing Tom if I leave my chair so I don’t even dare to leave for the bathroom.  I’ve even asked a staff member to check if there’s any messages left at the reception to my hotel room.  But there’s nothing. 

And you know what’s even worse than that?

I’m hungry.  I mean, I’m really  _starving_.  It’s nearly 1pm but I haven’t eaten anything properly since I’ve been up.  Perhaps I should wait for Tom, he’s likely to have a plan.  But I guess I’ll wait for him in the room instead.  It’s draining all my energy simply being here to stare at the revolving door.  I sigh internally when I give up my credit card…another thing to pay for when I finally go back home.   _Ah yes, gosh, when should I go back home?  I can’t be a tourist forever and leaving all these businesses behind.  Are there any approaching deadlines?  OMG, I don’t want to be charged extra for late payment!_

“Oh goodness,” here comes a familiar voice.  “I’m  _terribly_  sorry!”  Tom sits down in the chair which makes a right angle with mine, and immediately places his elbows on his knees.  “The whole thing overran and I lost track of time.  I wanted to call you but,” he pulls his phone out from his pocket.  “I forgot to charge the battery last night.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”  I should be at least annoyed but I’m only relieved that he’s made it.

“You must have been here for long,” he puts his hand on mine, which is currently on my lap.

“Nah, I’ve, I’ve actually just got here.”

"¿Puedo ayudarlo con algo, señor?"  A waiter interrupts and asks Tom. 

"Erm…Un café, por favor."

"Necesita algo más?"

"No, gracias."  He gestures and lets go of my hand.

I love the way he sounds whenever he speaks in a foreign language.  I absolutely love it even when he speaks English but gosh, Spanish is such a sexy language! 

“I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting,” he places his hand on my knee apologetically.

I’m just about to say “it’s fine, really” but he carries on, “the interviews weren’t long, but then they asked me to sign some of the gifts for the fans later, and I couldn’t say no either when they asked for more photos.  The people here are all so very nice.”

“It’s okay, dear.  I understand.”

He lowers his head a bit and creases his forehead, “So you’re not mad?”

“’Course not!  Why would I?” I shake my head and smile.

“Because,” he checks his watch.  “I’m almost an hour late.  And I didn’t even contact you.”

“Don’t worry about it.  It’s nothing you can control.  But hey,” I try to change the subject.  I pull those brochures out from my handbag.  “Look at these.  I got these from the front desk this morning.  Are there anything shown here that you think would worth a look?”

He shows a teethy grin, looking amused and he obediently skims through all the brochures.  “All of them look amazing,” he announces his verdict.  “I’ve actually planned to go check out the temple with you.”

“Have you?  They told me it’s super romantic at sunset.”

“Then it’s a must-go for us!” He winks.

My stomach picks the perfect moment to growl.  I desperately try to hide it but it’s no use – I  _am_  starving.

Too bad that they don’t serve lunch here though, but at least we could get a table at the famed Goya Restaurant of the hotel.  They’ll start serving lunch in a few minutes and Tom comments that he doesn’t want me to go around too much on an empty stomach.  So once he finishes his coffee we head to the restaurant.  I take one look at the menu and my jaw is instantly on the floor – more than 100€ per person for a meal?

I stand close to him and whisper, not wanting to embarrass either of us, “It’s too expensive!”

“It’s an apology for being late.” His giant hand brushes against my back.

I shrug.  I guess I should get used to this kind of world in which having a 100€ lunch is nothing that special. 

We’re seated promptly as soon as the restaurant is officially open for the day.  I think I spend as much time gawking at the high ceilings and chandeliers as I spend reading the menu. 

Tom looks adorably mesmerizing when he talks happily, with his fingertips barely touching his cheek – he looks like he wants to rest his chin on his palm but then he’s too excited about a certain topic he’s going on about so it prevents him from doing so.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hiddleston?”   A waitress appears by our table and asks timidly.

“Yes?”

“There’s a telephone call for you at the reception desk.  Would you like to answer it?”

“Sure, thank you.” He stands up and lifts his eyebrows at my way, “Excuse me.”


	15. Long Distance Relationship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: (update on 12 May:) I'm so sorry girls, I've just re-read the chapter and noticed a weird "London" replacing an entire paragraph that I wrote. I've corrected it now. Don't know what's happened lol.

Not being able to see Tom from where I’m sitting, I busy myself with nibbling on the bread frantically (also trying to watch my table manners at the same time in this fancy restaurant) while I’m waiting for him to come back.  Whoever’s calling must have tried to reach Tom on his cell but failed.

Tom’s face is noticeably several shades darker on his way back, even his elegant long strides can’t make up for the negativeness.  He sits down, letting out a silent but heavy sigh.

“Something’s wrong?” Of course there is.  It’s hardly a challenge at all to tell from his expressive face.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm himself down.  When he opens his eyes again, he puts the menus aside on the table and leans forward, “You know I really meant it when I told you work doesn’t come before you, right?”

“Mm-hmm.”  I nod.  This is not going to be good.

“And I honestly do want to check out the temple with you.”

I make my best efforts to smile, “Yes, I know, Tom.  I know.”

He wants to say something else but I stop him before he can do that.  I don’t really want to know what he needs to do, it’s not necessary anyway.  “Look, you don’t need to explain everything to me.  I understand.  I mean, I _understand_.  It’s nothing you can control.  What do you need to do later?”

“I tried to negotiate with Liz, but she said that it’s important for me to meet up with this man for a possible future project.  And he’s only available this afternoon.  We can still go out, though,” he adds hurriedly.  “But I’ll need to meet him at 4pm.  So it’s kinda in the middle of the day.”

“Hmm…” I look up at the ceiling and try to calculate the time in my head.  But Tom takes it as a sign of disappointment.

“I’m truly sorry.  I promised a good time but –“

I squeeze his hand to stop him, again, “Tom.  Why don’t we do one thing at a time?  We have more than enough time to enjoy a nice lunch, and then we’ll decide what to do later, hm?”

 These words seem to help unfurrow his brows, and his face immediately breaks into a happy grin, “You’re right.  Let’s not ruin our day here.”  He pauses, “Why are you so perfect?”

“I definitely am not!” I protest but I’m giggling.  “Well, I guess I made sure I understood what I’ve got myself into when I chose to come here.  Besides, I know that you’ve tried.  So it’s only fair that I also try my best and be understanding.”

“That’s the reason?  I thought this face,” he gestures at himself jokingly, “would let me get away with anything.”

“Yeah, you wish.”  I roll my eyes, even though he’s probably right.  But I’m not going to admit it.

We read the menu in comfortable silence for a short moment before the waiter comes and takes our orders.  I tilt my head at Tom.

“What?”  He grins and exhales sharply through his nose.

“I’m just wondering,” I blink.  “Have we swapped our roles?  Usually I’m the one who’s freaking out and worrying about stuff, and you’d be the one who keeps assuring me everything’s gonna be alright.”

Tom glances at the table briefly before raising his eyes at me, in a heart-stopping way because of that bonus smirk, “I can ‘freak out’ too sometimes, can’t I?”  He starts laughing.  “But…” he tries to close his mouth so that he can speak properly again.  “Seriously, I’d love to see you enjoy a great weekend here, to distract you from whatever that has taken your spark away.  The last thing I want to do is to leave you behind and make you feel lonely.  If I had known I had this much to do in Madrid, I would have planned it better.  I hope you can accept my apology.”

I shake my head, “it’s really okay, Tom.  I’m fine on my own.”  _Ouch.  My nose suddenly feels sour._   “I mean, this hotel’s location is awesome.  I can easily go around by myself and look at stuff.”

“I have noticed that you’re an independent person, but you shouldn’t be on your own.  I mean, not like _that_.”

_I get what he’s trying to say but neither of us says it that explicitly, as if the reality could be ignored by us not mentioning it.  To be honest, I haven’t cried in front of Tom at all after we’ve left London for Madrid.  I feel like I’ve completely lost Jeff and everything in Montreal.  There’s no need in crying anymore._

We take a leisurely stroll in the RetiroPark after lunch.  Tom blends into the crowd with ease since he doesn’t stand out in his sunglasses here, compared to the cloudy London where not many people need to wear theirs when they go outside.  We enter the park through one of its many gates, and there are a lot of statues along both sides of the road.  It’s Sunday so there are a lot of people in the park – families, friends, joggers, skateboarders and street entertainers can be seen everywhere.  I’m glad that at least we can walk side by side in peace, without any interruptions or other people between us.  We look exactly like the next couple you’d walk by, _okay_ , if you ignore Tom’s height and his handsomeness – he’s only looking a bit less noticeable than usual because his gorgeous eyes are hidden behind his shades.  It makes me happy to have some alone time with Tom…but then it also reminds me of yesterday – why did he need to pretend that he didn’t know me?

Soon we see a big lake and behind it there stands a grand statue.  Tom’s eyes grow wide and he immediately becomes a big kid.   He starts running towards the lake, pulling me after him in a tightened grip.  “Hey look!  You can have a boat ride on it too!  Shall we go?”   All those little blue rowboats are actually quite inviting, even for a person who doesn’t know how to swim.  Still, I hate to be the party pooper, but I take a look at the time on my wristwatch and comment, “It’s already 3 though…”

“Oh,” he pulls the corners of his lips downwards, which somehow makes him look even more adorable and all I want to do is to pat his head.

“Hey, we’ll see about later, hm?”  Tom’s enthusiasm keeps doing things to me.  I don’t know why but I have a hard time saying no to him, especially when he looks so happy.  “If you finish early we can come back, this is not far away from the hotel at all.”

He grins and goes “ehehehehee!” before saying, “Alright, then I’ll make sure to come back early enough!”

“No pressure though, just take your time.  I’m sure there’ll still be tons of other things to do even if we can’t come back for the boat.  Promise me that you won’t rush?”

“Why?”

“Just promise me,” I smile, extending my pinky.  “Pinky swear?”

He takes it, “Promise.”

“Good.”

“But Julia, why?”  He asks as soon as we take back our own pinky.

“Because i’m only here as a tagalong.  If there’s someone important you need to meet, then you should go meet him and you need to be there wholeheartedly.  I would feel really bad if your career were affected in anyway because of the fact that I’m here.”

He giggles, “Don’t worry, darling. Have some faith in me, I know what I’m doing.”  He twists his head a bit and winks, “But thanks for caring.”

Tom walks me back to our hotel room to grab the phone charger (“in case I can find somewhere to charge it during the meeting”) and promises that he’ll be back soon.  Of course I tell him to take his time.  After I close the door, I change into something comfier and hop onto the bed since I’m pretty sure it’s going to be quite a wait.  I don’t want to go out by myself again because I may run into some crazy men again and…he’s right, deep down I know well that I don’t want to be on my own.

Lying on my back and with my hands behind my head, I look at the ceiling, the walls around me, and feel more conscious about the bed I’m lying on.  My brain is starting to wander off so I try to stop it before it gets the chance to make me go crazy again.  I flip around and see the book Tom’s put on the nightstand.  I’ve seen him read it from time to time.  I pick it up to have a better look…hmm… _The Ego Trick_.  I read the description on the back out loud, “Are you still the person who lived fifteen, ten or five years ago? Fifteen, ten or five minutes ago? Can you plan for your retirement if the you of thirty years hence is in some sense a different person? What and who is the real you?...” Interesting.  It sounds like those Malcolm Gladwell’s books I usually read.  I reckon I can give it a try.

***

“Cuckoo!”  I know it’s Tom.  I can feel his warm hand on my upper arm, shaking it gently.

“Ugh...you’re back.”  I adjust my glasses, I’ve fallen asleep with them still on.

“Yes, I’m back.  How are you, my sleeping beauty?  Was the book that boring?” He chuckles.

“Yeah…” I struggle to sit up with Tom hovering close to me.  “I mean, good.  …Which question am I answering to…?”

“Ehehehehee!  Are you ready for some food?  Because I am.”

“…What time is it now?”

“It’s eating time!”

Suddenly I sit bolt upright – my body reacts before I can even think.  I look out of the windows through the bedroom doors and am relieved to see that the sunlight is still peeking through the curtains, even though it’s definitely not as strong as before.

“Don’t you want to go for the boat at the lake before it’s closed?”

I’m afraid we’re a bit too late for that,” he pushes up his sleeve and checks his black digital watch.  “Hmm…it should still be open but there’s not enough time for us to enjoy it.”

I grab his wrist in shock and look at the time myself.  19:26.  I feel so deflated.  “I’m sorry…”

“Why the apology, darling?  It’s my fault to come back late.”  Oh, those huge blue eyes.  He looks concerned but at the same time he can’t hide his amused smirk.

“But the boat…you really wanted to go, didn’t you?” I pout.

“Well, that gives us a reason to come back for a second visit.  What do you say?”  He raises his eyebrows merrily.

I can’t control my face.  It automatically breaks into a wide grin.

***

Since we’re not from around, Tom and I are not used to the late dinner time that’s adopted by the locals.  For both of us dinner at 8 would be considered a late-ish dinner whereas it’s actually quite early for them.  Luckily we were not looking when it was 6, since restaurants are just starting to wake up from their afternoon nap as we’re looking around.

I love being here with Tom.  It really does feel like a fantasy escape because it’s neither of our hometowns and we won’t run into anyone we know.  Apart from the occasional “is he or isn’t he” stares, and the even more occasional photo/autograph requests, we both enjoy our current anonymity here, which we need for different reasons.

Eventually we stop at a restaurant with large windows along the sidewalk.  It’s not crowded yet but I guess it will be because when we ask for a table for two, the _maître d_ ' takes a quick look at the booking list and asks if we can give the table back to them by 9:30.  The interior of the restaurant looks chic and modern, very much like most of the restaurants we’ve been to together before.  (We share similar preferences when it comes to restaurants, I guess) All the furniture and decorations are black and white, with black wood panels on the floor and white ceilings and walls.  We are seated next to a column with my back facing another huge glass window.  The setting and the ambience remind me of that restaurant I went with Tom in London for breakfast before our visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral, although this city has a totally different character from London.  Tom still sits in the same way – his legs trap mine between them, but what’s not the same now is that I don’t feel as freaked out as I did.  The sun has just set and somehow his left cheekbone is even more highlighted since he sits next to a floor lamp with an orange lampshade.  I don’t mind at all when his legs are stretched all the way to my side either.  It must be uncomfortable to keep them folded under the chair for a long period of time.

“So how was the meeting?”

“It was great.  He’s a man with vision and it was such a pleasure and privilege to be able to have a great chat with him.  In fact, he invited me to stay behind for dinner so that we could talk some more but I had to decline, saying that I’ve already made an appointment with someone else.”

“Oh, Tom.  You could have stayed if you were having fun.”

“No, I won’t.  I want to be here with _you_ , mi bella.”  He suddenly sounds rather serious.  But then he immediately shakes his head and giggles, “Besides, I would probably be starved to death if I needed to eat at nine or after!”

“Let’s order then.  What do you recommend?  They’ve given me a Spanish menu and I don’t understand a thing except let me guess…this should be… _ham_?  And this… _fried_.  Yeah…” I mutter as I run my finger down the menu.   I’m taking some wild guesses here just from the similarity of some words it shares with French, which I’ve learned briefly, mainly on food words, because of Jeff.

I let him order anything he thinks would be great and we share the food.  He wanted to translate everything to me but since we have a time limit with our table, I let him choose to save some time.  We see that the portions of the food are big from our next table so we only order a few tapas.  All the food arrive really quickly and the service is excellent.  If we stayed here for some more days I’m pretty sure we would return for another meal.

We leave the place as it’s starting to get busy.  The crowd starts to show up at 9 and we surrender our table at 9:30pm sharp as promised.  We’re not that far from the hotel so we decide to walk back there – to also enjoy the nice weather and the even more solid sense of unrecognizability offered by the darkness of the night.

Tom is almost back to that Tom who took me to the Sherlock Museum and the Rabbit Hole afternoon tea.  He’s all sweet and attentive, which sweeps away all my worries about his behavior at the _Teatro Fernán Gómez._ _No.  I won’t ask him about that.  I can kind of guess why he did what he did.  He must have done it for my own good, I believe._

_And this concludes our little weekend getaway in Madrid.  We still have a flight to catch tomorrow so it’d be better for us to go back and prepare.  It’s not like we have a lot of stuff unpacked or have much to do but we just want to take it easy.  We haven’t really done any sightseeing unless you count the lake but it’s still a nice time with Tom when he’s not in his “star mode” – it’s not that he’d transform into someone else when it happens but everyone else around him would treat him, and therefore me too, differently.  Tom’s being all apologetic though.  He keeps saying sorry for how he hasn’t delivered his promise and the fact that we haven’t done much at all in Madrid together.  I needed to swear that I did have fun to make him stop thinking about it.  He said he’d make it up in Iceland next month but to be completely honest, I’m not sure if I should tag along.  He’ll be there to film Thor 2, after all._

I’m pleased to find out his book helps a great deal in distracting him because he seems to be totally engulfed in it during the whole flight back to London.  I sleep all the way through.  I was holding on the edge again in the bed last night because that man was sleeping as if he was making a snow angel.  But he was in such a deep sleep that I didn’t want to wake him up, nor did I want to risk waking him up by getting out of bed to sleep on the couch.

Soon after our feet are on London’s ground again, Tom receives a call on his mobile.

“Hello.  …Yes, good afternoon to you too!  …It was great, thanks.  Hm?”

I’m sitting right next to him and I can sense something’s wrong straightaway when his tone changes. 

“Sorry, what?” The hand that’s on my shoulder a second ago is now pressing the phone hard against his ear.  “Are you absolutely sure?”

He takes a quick glance at me and obviously tries to keep the conversation out of my earshot.  Or at least he’s trying to keep the topic vague enough for me.  “Uh huh, I understand.  Have they found out who sent it?  …Alright.  Yes.  …Yes I’ll make sure of that.  Thanks for letting me know.  …You too, love.  Bye.”

“What was that about?” I ask as soon as he hangs up.

“Ah,” he thinks for a sec.  “It’s…nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”  He tries to look more convincing with a casual shrug.

“O…kay.  It sounds pretty serious.  But oh well, none of my business.”  I mirror his shrug.

He responds with a smile, pulls me close to him again and kisses my forehead.  It feels natural at first before it turns into a full-on desperate tight hug, like he’s afraid that if he loosens his arms, I’d be gone. 

“I love you,” he whispers.

***

For the next few days, Tom gets busier and busier.  It’s quite different from before because he used to have time off and would try to spend it with me as much as possible but now, work resumes in full speed.  Well, well, well…what did you expect?  Horse carriage ride every day?  Happily ever after?

Tom’s definitely trying his best like he would text me when he’s at work, and he’d try to introduce people to me so that I’ll have more friends….especially it feels like all my old friends are gone – Alice has stopped contacting me altogether and I haven’t heard from Jeff at all after the wedding day.  I did run into Liz the other day though when Tom invited me to where he was to have lunch together.  And she made sure I know that the man who asked Tom to stay for dinner in Madrid was actually a bit offended that he didn’t stay.  Basically she’s telling me not to get in Tom’s way as his career is taking off.  She did mention something about how “it’s for your own good too”.  I have a strange feeling that it’s related to the phone call Tom received several days ago.

It’s probably also related to how Tom’s acting these days whenever we’re out in public together.  He makes the effort of not letting it be too obvious but of course I can tell that he’s back to pretending-we’re-only-friends and I always need to hide in the background whenever someone recognizes him on the street.  Has his agent threatened him to keep our relationship a hush-hush?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll be back to Jeff's world in the next chapter! ;)


	16. When 2 Become 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I can never thank you enough for sticking with me on the stories, especially when I'm having such a busy daily schedule these days. In a few hours I'll write back to all the lovely comments you've left (I'm now typing like a maniac between lessons - that I need to teach, not to have) :) Love you all! xx

I told you that I act before I feel.

Now, a few days _after_ the wedding, I have these occasional moments during the day when I’d suddenly stop whatever I’m doing and freeze right there to digest the fact that I’m a Mrs.  Like, _what?_   How have I even ended up being a wife?  What’s happened?  It’s crazy because it feels like everything’s changed but then in reality, things are still the same.

My family and Talia still have less than a week here in Montreal and Jeff’s family make sure that they’re having a nice time.  They’ve even decided to take us on a 3-day trip in some other parts in Quebec, including a beautiful island, and also Francis will drive us up north so that we can see more red maple leaves.  I really appreciate the gesture because Francis is the only one who does all the driving and I can’t imagine how tiring it must be.  (Neither Helene nor Jeff drive and for the rest of us, who come from a huge metropolitan city, never need to drive.) We end up going to a ski resort in Mont Tremblant for the view (since it’s not snowing yet), to an island for a great stay at a B&B whose owners know the family for years, and also stay in another hotel situated in front of a breathtakingly beautiful lake surrounded with autumn-colored leaves.  My mother especially loves it for I believe she’s gone out there in the morning and took hundreds of photos in less than an hour.

The trip is awesome, because it makes me really happy to see how well our two families get along.  They may not be speaking the same language or sharing similar backgrounds, but they do care about each other and my parents seem to approve my decision to move here, after seeing what it’s like to live in Montreal.  It’s always fun to take up a long table whenever we dine out at restaurants too.  Having 3 or 4 people at a table is nothing that extraordinary, but when all 8 of us are out together, the atmosphere instantly becomes a lot more cheerful and makes every meal a great candid photo opportunity.  I now understand what they mean when they say that marriage is not only about two individuals but actually two families.  I can’t imagine what it’d be like if our families didn’t like each other or if the idea of meeting my mother-in-law would make me cringe…I mean, you’ll need to live with that for the rest of your life.  Why makes it such an unpleasant experience?  It makes my heart feel warm every time when Francis and Helene call me their daughter or when my brother would give a man-hug to Jeff, affectionately adding, “bro!” while he’s at it.

Soon it’s the last evening of our trip and Francis is driving all of us to have dinner at a restaurant before returning to Jeff’s place.  I ask Jeff secretively, “Hey, how much does the gas cost?  I want to chip in.”

“Ah, I think it’s $120 and my parents and I are going to pay $40 each.  You don’t need to pay anything.”

“But I want to!  Your dad has been driving us around everywhere and it’s only basic manners to at least help with the gas.”

“You really don’t need to, ‘oney.”

“We can split it 4 ways hm?  $30 each?”  I fish my wallet out from my purse and hand him $30.  I add with a smile, “Figure out a way that your parents won’t try to give it back to me.”

Jeff holds onto it to wait for a good moment.  Sometime later he stretches forward and hands the money to Helene, who is sitting in the passenger seat.  Helene takes it, not knowing what it’s for but knows it’s from her son, asks Jeff in French why he gives her that (I guess).  When Jeff explains, both Francis and Helene go, “Non, non, non!”  And Helene twists around to give me back the money.

“I want to help with the gas at least.  Really.”

Helene insists, “You’re a guest!  Non, non, non!”

I immediately come up with a response, “You would receive it if you consider me as family.”

JP translates it and then Helene takes it, after some consideration, with a nod and a smile. 

“That was clever!” JP nudges me slightly with his upper arm, smirking at me.

“Hehehehee!  But I _am_ family now, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are,” Jeff beams.

As soon as we’re at the restaurant, we notice how old-fashioned and homey it feels.  There are framed photos hung along the walls, which were taken in different decades, showing all the owners and workers at the restaurant through the years.  It also seems that Jeff and his family are regulars here or at least the waitresses recognize them and greet them by their names.  And guess what we find out soon – just after the breads arrive, Francis tells us that it’s the very restaurant in which he proposed to Helene!  And he points at the table behind us, right next to the kitchen, “The table there, yes.”

“Oh my god!”  Everyone gush over the fact and all turn to look at the table, trying to picture what it was like back then, while Francis and Helene look on in reminisce.

“So that’s where you said yes, Helene?” I ask her with wide, excited eyes.

“Oh non, non, she said no.” Francis interrupts.

We gasp, “No?”

“Yes I need to ask again…other day.”

“In the same place?”  I exclaim.

“Yes, also in this restaurant.”

“At the same table?”

“Ah…non?  Hmm..maybe.”  Francis scratches his head.

Helene adds, “Yes at the same table.”  She points at that table again.

“Don’t you think it’d be bad luck to ask again at the table where she said no?”

They both laugh.  Helene waves her hand and giggles, “Well, I said yes.”

My brother speaks up, “So why did you say no the first time?”

Helene shrugs, “Mmm…aahhh…” She seems to struggle with an answer, like she doesn’t even know why she said no back then.

“Because it’s too near to the kitchen?” I offer jokingly.

“Hahahaa yes, it’s too ‘ot.”  Helene nods.

“Gosh, you must have given Francis a heart attack.  Good thing that he tried again!  Stupid kitchen…hahahaha!”

“So how did your parents meet?” Francis asks, and my parents smile at each other, eyes sparkling.

It’s always fun to learn about the past of older couples.  If you haven’t asked your parents how they met and how they proposed, I strongly recommend you to do so.  The look on their faces would melt your heart.  Often stories of their wedding day would be something great too.  Francis and Helene are so lucky that after all these years, that restaurant is still there for them to go back anytime.  The one my parents had their reception at is already long gone.  I wonder if Jeff and I can return to the same restaurant we had our reception at when it’s our 20th anniversary?

After dinner, we head back to Jeff’s place.  My family and Talia are going to go back home on the day after tomorrow, so I guess they’d like to take it easy after this trip.  They spend the next day packing, washing and drying their dirty clothes, and getting ready for the long flights back home.

It feels really weird to say goodbye to your family when you’re at the airport, especially when _they_ are returning home but you aren’t.  It’s early morning, so early that the sun hasn’t risen, but Francis and Helene insist again on extending the rent of the SUV for one more day just to drive everyone back to the airport.  At 5 in the morning.  We did tell them that we’d just take the taxi but they’d hear none of it – even though they need to drive 45 minutes from their home just to get to Jeff’s place to pick us up and _then_ we drive to the airport.  What time did they get up?  3am? 

Again, I’m truly thankful to see the two families getting along so well.  I don’t know why but there’s a small part of me who wants to cry when my family and Talia turns their backs and disappear into the passenger-only area.  It’s only because I know I’d go join them in a couple of weeks that I can hold back my tears.  I’ll need to go back to finish the immigration application process, since it should be faster to apply outland than inland.  The SUV suddenly feels so empty and quiet on our way back to Jeff’s, and it feels even emptier when I see the mess they’ve left behind…all those slightly deflated mattresses on the floor, messy bed sheets, snacks that they don’t want to bring back home… _oh gosh.  What would happen when it’s finally time to leave my family and live in a country on the other side of the world?_

“Why are you taking photos of the beds?” Jeff asks, coming out from the bathroom to see me walking around the messes.

“I don’t know…I just, miss them.  It’s too quiet here.”

“Aww…you’ll see them soon again, baby.”  He sits on the sofa and turns on his PS3, like he always does.  There may be some TV shows that he wants to catch up with.  “But I ‘ope at least you feel like you ‘ave a home, ‘ere.”

“Yes, I do, sweetie.”  I look at him with teary eyes.  I really do miss my family around.  It’s too quiet, too empty here.  The apartment wasn’t this big for the past two weeks.

Jeff pats the seat next to his, asking me to keep him company.  “I’m ‘appy.  I try to give you a ‘ome.  Are you ‘appy too?” 

“Yes I am.  Thank you.  _Merci beaucoup._ ”  I sit down and throw my thighs on top of his, and rest my head on his shoulder, but still make sure he can hold his game controller alright.

“Hehehee!” Jeff giggles like a baby and then his attention drifts away to the big TV screen.  I guess with everyone around, he hasn’t had anytime to do things that he likes because he’s been too busy playing host.  I get up and go to his laptop to go online instead.  I don’t understand it when they’re speaking French on TV…well, sometimes it’s funny though to watch an episode of French-dubbed _Supernatural_.

I haven’t been online for days because of the trip and yesterday I let everybody else have their turns instead because they’ll be leaving today and they won’t be able to go online for some 24 hours.  I don’t know if I should expect anything from Tom but I guess I should expect nothing just so that I won’t be disappointed.  After all, what’s there left for him to say to me?

And see, Tom lives up to my expectation. 

There’s nothing from him.  Not ever since that call on the wedding day and there’s no sign that he’ll be contacting me anytime soon.  _He’s back to his world while I’m back to mine._

_I can’t deny the fact that I miss him, really badly too.  But it’d be stupid to regret because that’s what I chose.  Right?  RIGHT?  No regret.  It’s not an option.  It’s moment like this when you start to think about the choices you’ve made and when you start to ask your “what ifs”.  Still, so what?  I only have myself to blame._

I try to keep Tom close by something subtle, like using a bookmark I made with the two sweet peas I’ve kept.  I’ve laminated them and put a ribbon through a punched hole to make it look all nice.  I also try to wear the butterfly necklace as often as possible…good thing that it’s a style that I can wear with my everyday clothes so Jeff never suspects anything.  It always reminds me the smile and those big round eyes of his when he gave me that dark blue box, that day at Heathrow Airport.  How we just sat there in silence wishing time would stop, and how we said our goodbyes and that…my fingertips touch my lips gently, as if they still remember how that felt…how that kiss felt.  It must be destiny that I saw this necklace, since the two wings of the butterfly are separated – no matter how beautiful it is, no matter how colorful the wings are, it’s broken and it can’t fly.

Yes, I wear it to keep him close.  But it also feels like a large stone hung around my neck and all I wish is to be drowned in the memories with that man I met on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.


	17. When Fate Calls

While fiddling with the butterfly necklace charm that lays right on my collarbones, I refresh the page once again to see if Tom has posted any new tweets.  I know it’s a complete waste of time but pathetically that’s the only way I can feel close to him – the thought of us being online at the same time somehow makes this loose virtual contact feel more realistic, like…we’re reading the same words at the very same moment.  And I wonder if he ever thinks of me.

I keep tabs on him, or  _okay_ , some may refer this as “online stalking” but it’s nothing like that.  I’m only curious if he ever misses me at all.  I’ve seen him tweet about his weekend in Madrid, and damn, what’s he done to look so radiant?  I’m here looking like shit just because of the haunting memories but look at him!  Or is it all an act?  I know I won’t be the perfect person to comment on this because I’m definitely biased and selfishly, deep inside my heart, I wish he’d look a bit sadder.  Now he’s acting as if nothing’s happened in that certain September.

Of course there are some other tweets that have made me wonder (yeah, somebody’s absolutely NOT stalking), like:

**September 26:**

Tom Hiddleston   
@twhiddleston

Song of the Day: "I Will Wait", by Mumford & Sons. "Reload and your toes start tapping" (NME). Cloud-piercing.

_Does he direct that to me or is there someone out there he’s thinking about while listening to this song?_

**October 3:**

Tom Hiddleston  
@twhiddleston

Song of the Day: "Let's Stay Together", by Al Green. Mmm-hmm.

 _I mean, read the lyrics!  That guy is obviously in love, yeah?  But whether with me or not, that’s the question.  He did say that he loves me.  But…I don’t think I’ve ever said the same to him.  God.  He’s perfectly entitled to go and love someone else.  Why do I even feel jealous if he does?  He can, and should, love someone else.  And I_ should _be happy for him!_

**October 27:**

Tom Hiddleston  
@twhiddleston

Make sure you tell the people you love that you love them. Loudly and often. You never know when it might be too late. #LoveYourLife

 

 _He_ did _tell me._

_I did not tell him._

_But I guess it’s already too late._   It’s been more than a month since my wedding and even though Tom and I keep in contact by email, more and more often the emails would start with, “I’m sorry that I’ve taken so long to write back.”  Besides, there’s nothing much left to write about anymore, now that we don’t have any shared experiences.  Like I said, he’s back to his world while I’m back to mine.  We’re never in the same world to begin with.  I should feel lucky that the collision hasn’t left too big an impact in my life.  Without anything being disclosed in his emails, I’m slowing retreating back to my “fangirl” world, agreeing with most of my fellow Hiddlestoners at the time on the speculation that he’s indeed met someone.

Yes, he does write me occasionally, to tell me about the awesome people he’s met or give me movie recommendations.  Basically those are just some personalized version of his tweets.  It may seem to be friendly and personal at first glance but it’s easy to smell the distance in the content since he makes sure to never touch anything personal.

It was easier when I was still there in Montreal with Jeff because we’d do things as a couple and that distracts me a lot from everything Tom-related.  Even the butterfly necklace has become my daily accessory without me thinking too much about it.  Everything has reduced from a stab in the heart to a splinter in the fingertip.  But since I’m back home for the immigration process, I know it’s immoral to say this but I feel more…single again.  Every time when I’m online, my pages are constantly flooded with Tom’s photos and videos.  It’s such a relief to see that he looks okay – in all public or fans-taken photos.  Without me hanging around or hiding in the background.

I miss that smile and I miss his smell.

I even miss being separated from him by his publicist or agent, because it only means that we’re in the same world.

_What if…_

Sigh.

It’s impossible not to ask “what if” especially when I see photos of him with other girls, those in which he’d gently hold the waist of some other beautiful actresses or celebrities.  Especially those.  I can never compete with them.  I don’t even know what Tom has seen in me in the very first place.  But damn, it  _could_   _be me_  and I let it go.  Another woman may have replaced me already, being there in his place right now, cooking him a delicious three-course meal and not needing him to do anything in the kitchen.  They will not be acting all clumsy and stupid and instead they’re the most beautiful swan who could effortlessly silence all Tom’s fans and make them all go “I ship them!”.  If I were the one they saw, I would brace myself with hate mails or even death threats. 

Reluctantly, I click the little red “X” on the top right corner of the screen just so that I can get my life back.   _Tom deserves someone better.  Yes.  He’s better without me._  

Jeff should be up by now.  Talking to him would help me stop all these nonsense thoughts.  Let me check if he’s online.

5:31 PM  **me** : Bonjour mon _chéri_!  are you up yet?

 

There isn’t any answer yet.  So I go and empty my head by playing some Facebook games.

 

5:45 PM  **Jean-Francois** : Heyhey :)  
 **me** : hi handsome!  
              how are you?  
 **Jean-Francois** : good good, just getting ready for gym before work.  how are you?

5:46 PM  **me** : pretty good, having a relaxing day here  
              btw have you received my final forms yet?  
 **Jean-Francois** : oh I forgot to mention but yeah, and i’m putting them in the orange envelope like you said  
 **me** : thanks sweetie :D and don’t forget to send it by courier, i’ve worked too hard on that whole pile of forms and papers to lose any of them now.  i would die if I needed to work on that again =3=

5:47 PM **Jean-Francois** : I remember, honey ;) and I’m planning to send it by courier 

5:48 PM  **me** : just sent you an email with the address if you send by courier, it’s different from the usual one.    
 **Jean-Francois** : got it.  don’t worry baby  
 **me** : heheheee  
              sorry for being so bossy, i just don’t want to see anything to go wrong.  if we miss anything and if the package gets sent back, it may cause several months of delay in the end

5:49 PM  **Jean-Francois** : yes I know.  but don’t worry, honey, you’ve already made the application bullet-proof.  if ours doesn’t succeed, nobody else’s application will! ;) you did it perfectly!  
 **me** : hehehehee i hope!  you know how much i love double-checking stuff and how OC I can about things

5:50 PM **Jean-Francois** : that’s why you’re perrrrfect! :D   
 **me** : you’re crazy to think someone so crazy as perfect  
 **Jean-Francois** : crazy about you, my wifey!

5:51 PM I miss you so much!  
 **me** : me too :3   
 **Jean-Francois** : oh yes baby, will you have sometime next month?

5:52 PM  **me** : hm?

5:53 PM well i’m actually quite free these days without my school job, why?  
 **Jean-Francois** : I’m thinking about our honeymoon!  I’ll have some days off next month, do you think we can go somewhere?  
 **me** : sure, why not?  where do you want to go?

5:54 PM  **Jean-Francois** : where do YOU want to go?  
 **me** : well, i’ve been around so i guess it’d be fairer for you to choose :) i’ll go wherever you go    
               except anywhere that needs me to spend more than 30 hours in the air :P  
 **Jean-Francois** : you know where i’d like to go :D  
 **me** : hmmm…somewhere cold?  but it should be cold everywhere in December  
               well, everywhere in the northern hemisphere, that is

5:55 PM  **Jean-Francois** : what do you think of…  
               Scotland and Dublin and London? :D:D:D:D  They’re the places I want to go to the most, they’re on top of my travel list! 

5:59 PM **Jean-Francois** : baby are you still there? 

6:00 PM **me** : ah, yeah yeah, sorry   
 **Jean-Francois** : so what do you think?  
 **me** : sounds fantastic :)  
 **Jean-Francois** : i know you’ve been there but i haven’t…and i really want to see it :D and also go to an irish pub in Ireland!  
 **me** : i’ve never been to Scotland so that makes two of us ;)    
we can even see if Alice is available and invite her for a meal or sth when we’re in London!

6:01 PM  **Jean-Francois** : sounds like a plan!  
 **me** : :)

To be honest, I don’t even remember much about what we discuss.  I guess I’m still in shock about the whole London thing.  Is there some kind of mysterious magnetic force that keeps pulling me back to London?  Never have I ever imagined that I’d go back there for our honeymoon.

I know for a fact that Tom is currently in London and I don’t think he’s heading anywhere for work soon, so there’s a huge chance that he’ll be there when Jeff and I are visiting. 

_Gasp._

Oh god.

_Breathe deeply.  Breathe.  Deeply._

Can’t.

I can’t tell him.

There’s no way I can see him again.

Life is such a funny thing.  You’d think that you wouldn’t return to some place that soon but then I guess the saying’s right – never say never, huh.   And it’d be the very last place you’d expect your husband would want to go, after knowing that much has happened there, even to his disadvantage…sort of.  And then you’d expect a super famous Hollywood actor to be anywhere but his hometown during the short time you’re visiting but nope – if it’s destined, there’s no running away from it.

Here I am, standing at the very same spot, holding the very same phone, calling the very same insurance agent, planning a trip to the very same destination…but for a very different purpose.  I’ve still got some leftover pound sterling in my envelope, my phone’s contract still comes with the international roaming service, and flights to London from my city aren’t that expensive either so…nothing can really stop me from going.

I hate this.

I hate myself for not being able to stop thinking about him.  I hate myself for being this…mawkish.  And in spite of my best effort, life throws him to me again like it’s some kind of sick joke.  It keeps telling you that you can’t have that piece of cake, but it keeps putting it right in front of your face.  When you try to look away, there would be this pair of invisible, strong, big hands, forcefully twist your head to make you look at it – and even force your eyelids open to ensure you SEE its existence.  It’s so close and yet it’s so far away.  What have I done to deserve this?  This…cruel prank?

Yes, you may wonder why I don’t talk to Jeff and suggest some other places to go, but he’s been wanting to go to the UK and Ireland forever, even before I met Tom.  I’d rather let myself suffer than seeing him sad or disappointed.  Besides, I don’t have any good reasons to say no to him.  As far as he knows, nothing has happened between Tom and me.  Not going to London would only make me look suspiciously guilty.

Before I know it, I’m at Heathrow again, with Jeff this time.  His flight has arrived quite a lot of hours before mine, and he’s been waiting for me at the airport since this morning.  Despite that, he welcomes me with the warmest smile when I walk into the arrival hall, like a proud husband would.

“Hey you,” my arm reaches out to pull him closer for a kiss.

“’ello,” he goes for a hug instead.  I remember him telling me previously that every time he sees me at the airport after some months, sometimes it feels like he’s got a new girlfriend.  Probably that explains his action.

“Hehehee c’mon I want a kiiiiiiss!” I wrinkle the bridge of my nose.

He gives me a shy peck on the lips.

“Welcome to London, sweetie.”

He makes a funny frown, “Didn’t I arrive first?”

“Nope.” I pull my little wheeled luggage closer to my feet.  “Technically I arrived first, a few years ago.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” he mocks me.

I ignore it and ask, “Have you been here all along?  For all these hours?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs and twists his waist to point at a direction behind him.  “I was just sitting there and played games on my tablet and read a bit.”

“But didn’t your plane land this morning?”

“Yeah.”

“Why haven’t you gone to the hotel to rest a bit?”

“I want to wait for you ‘ere,” he gives me the puppy eyes.   _My guess is that since he’s never been to this city, he’d feel more comfortable to go around with me instead.  It may not be the manliest thing to do but it does make me feel needed._

I smirk, “Poor babaay…you must be tired.  Let’s go!  You can take a nap in the room if you want.”

We’ve decided to spend a night in London before flying to Dublin the next morning.  I intentionally avoid all hotels in Earl’s Court just so that I can feel like I’m not tracing back my steps.  Jeff’s going to be over the moon when we’re in Dublin.  He’s been so excited about Temple Bar and the Guinness Storehouse.  I’m planning to take him to the Kilmainham Gaol too.  Last time when I was there I had a really great guided tour.  I’ve booked us a hotel room right next to the Christ Church Cathedral so it should be very convenient for us to go around.  After Dublin, we have Edinburgh and Liverpool on our list because Jeff is crazy about the sceneries in Scotland and he went crazy when he talked about Liverpool when we were planning our trip because he’s a huge Beatles fan.

Our final destination of the trip would be London.  I’ve sent Alice a text as soon as I’ve landed to let her know we’re here.  And we’ll see her soon before Christmas.  Also, I don’t need to remind her because she must know better than to let Tom know that I’m in London again no matter how badly I want to see him. 

I can’t let anyone know….all I can think is…just once more, I long for sharing the same space and moment with him again.


	18. Calling Out His Name

Dublin never fails to amaze me.  I’ve been to this city more than once before and I’ve always loved that circular walkways with glass walls you can see the moment you get out from the plane.  I love how everything looks like they’ve got so much history behind them, and how they have all these greens around all the time.  I don’t have that kind of luxury back home, living in a crowded, polluted metropolitan city.

Jeff and I share similar travelling style, for instance, we would make a general plan and we would try to go around but without stressing too much on ticking things off the list.  If we happen to see something interesting somewhere, even if it wasn’t on our plan before, we would go check it out.  The only difference we have is that I don’t care too much about what I eat as long as it’s not too pricey, but Jeff, being a fantastic cook himself, would like to splurge on a fancy meal every once in a while.  On our guidebook we read about this Michelin-starred restaurant and when we check it out on tripadvisor, almost all reviewers give it an “excellent” review, so we think to ourselves, “why not?”  Yes it’s expensive but it’s probably going to be some sort of once-in-a-lifetime thing.  If that makes Jeff happy, then I’m going to be happy too. 

Hahahaa, it makes me giggle too when we both agree to go there for lunch instead of dinner because that’s the way to try out a new restaurant, especially a fancy one, without breaking your wallet.  I’m truly blessed to be so in sync with my husband.

We’ve covered a lot of tourist attractions in Dublin in the past two days, and today we’re going to take it easy, planning to have the fancy lunch (it’s going to be a treat from Jeff too!) and then we’ll just head to the temple bar area to go bar hopping.  I have yet to take him to this super nice pub I went to last time – there is live music and it’s like a maze inside.  It’s multi-storied and there are a lot of semi-private sitting areas.  I like that spot in the corner where you can look outside at the crossroads through the large glass windows, while the live band is visible from where you sit, but of course that spot may not be available often.

Fortunately we have our honeymoon luck and we find a table right in the corner.  We sit down and chat, occasionally looking around to absorb the scene around us – the decorations, the different languages spoken around us, the funny “footer” on the receipts left on the table by the previous patrons, including:

 _To quote Homer Simpson, “Alcohol is the cause and the solution to all of life’s problems”._   And

_Some people say Irish don’t accept tips.  Some people are crazy._

After a few minutes, we feel like we should at least order something instead of just sitting there and occupying their space.

“Should we go order something to drink?”  I suggest to Jeff.

“Yeah…can I ‘ave an apple cider, please?”  Jeff says, half-heartedly flipping the drinks and snacks menu.

I hold my breath.  The truth is – okay, it’s going to sound _really_ silly but I’ve never ordered anything in bars or pubs myself.  The guys always do that for me so I honestly have no idea how to do it.  Do they use some kind of special gestures?  Special words?  Would I sound stupid and burst out something like “I’d like to purchase an alcohol please”?  How much will I need to tip?  I don’t know any of those “usual” words they say!  I’m going to make a fool of myself.

“Can you go and buy them instead?  I’ll give you money.”  I hope Jeff won’t be able to tell the fact that I’m actually too chicken to buy our drinks.  He’ll probably laugh.

To my surprise, he pouts and gives me those puppy dog eyes, “But babieee, you speak better English than I do.  I’m afraid I can’t understand the accent.  Please?”

Oh gosh.  Now _I_ want to laugh.  So both of us are too chicken to buy the drinks…how are we supposed to go bar-hopping?  “You’ll be fine.  You’ve always said that you like the accent.”

“Pretty please?”  His lashes flutter up and down.

My shoulders slump, “But I don’t know how to buy drinks in bar…”

“Well then, it’s time for you to learn!”

“No…” it’s my turn to pout.  “It’s time for you to understand the accent.”

“Sweetie…”

“Please?” I raise my brows and raise my hope.

He sighs, “Okay.”  He shuffles along the bench to get out.  “You want cider too, yeah?”

“ _Oui_ ,” I smile.  “ _Merci beaucoup mon_ _bébé_.”

He looks pleasantly surprised at my sudden French and he goes, “Wow!”  Then he finally heads to the bar after giving me a quick kiss.

Both of us enjoy our cider while chatting about our trip and looking at people come and go inside the bar and walking about outside the place.  We then go into a pub that you need to go upstairs.  It’s really cramped but there seems to be a great live band playing in the corner.  However, it is really crowded that we have no choice but to leave after one drink.  Finally we come to another pub, hopefully that’s our last because I don’t think I can last any longer before the world starts spinning around me.

Jeff’s walking in front of me and I’m about to enter the pub when a giant hand suddenly appears in front of my chest.

The big, bald bouncer has stopped me.

I stare at him with wide eyes, even though my head is spinning.  I’d be lying if I say I don’t feel intimidated.  Jeff’s already inside and I don’t think he’s noticed that I’m not behind him anymore.

“Hey, how old are you?”  The bouncer asks in a sturdy, emotionless voice.

I don’t get it the first time, I actually think he’s asking how I am.  “…Ah…sorry?”

“How old are you?” He speaks more slowly.

 _Ah, how old am I?_   I may have too much alcohol in my head and I haven’t been paying too much attention to my age so I’m actually doing the math in my head.  “I’m…ah…” it takes me maybe 3 seconds but eventually I manage to utter, “I’m 28.”

“Then you’re welcomed.”  He smiles and gestures into the pub like one of those doormen on Titanic.  That’s _weird_.  I hesitated and I needed to think about my age and yet he simply let me walk in like this.

Jeff’s finally noticed my absence and turns around.

“The bouncer stopped me at the door,” I giggle before he can say anything.

“What?”  He frowns, but smirking.

“The bouncer stopped me at the door.  He asked me how old I am,” I speak with a sense of pride, happy at the fact that some people would still see me as 10 years younger than I actually am.

He pulls his chin back to take a good look at me, trying to think objectively how old I look.  “What’s the legal drinking age here?”

“I guess…it’s 18?”

“I’m not a pedophile!”  His eyes go wide, in mock fear.  “I don’t look like one, do I?”

I roll my eyes, quite exaggeratedly.  “I don’t think he stopped me because of _you_!”

“My wife is beautiful and has the nicest skin,” he grins.

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re probably drunk,” I give him a push to signal him to start looking for somewhere to sit.  “This is our last bar, yeah?”

“It needs to be,” I can hardly hear him now, with his back facing me and his voice is drowned among all the other noises from the crowd.  “…time…flight…?  …morning call…”

Ah, yes, our flight back to London will depart at 8am.  The pain of traveling on a budget.  I’ve already bought the shuttle bus tickets to go back to the airport and we’ll need to get up at…wow those girls are definitely having fun on the dance floor.  Is it some sort of traditional dance?  Nice hair too!  …4am, or 4:30am?  4:30am would do if we finish packing tonight.

I _know_ I’m drunk when my face is hit by the cold air of the night again, because I feel like I need that coldness to keep me awake.  I don’t remember everything but I think I start walking backwards in circles, and I keep leaning against the lamppost even when the pedestrian light turns green, since I’m too dizzy to walk soberly.  Jeff isn’t that much better than me but he manages to get us both back to the hotel safely.  We tell the front desk that we need a morning call at 4am (which certainly amuses him.  He actually double-checks with us to see if he’s heard it wrong) on our way in.

When we’re ready for bed, probably due to the alcohol consumption, we start making out like crazy to the loud and makes-my-ears-bleed singing from the karaoke bar downstairs.  The more passionately they sing, oh well, we’re definitely drunk, since everything sounds like a Whitney Houston number now, and we respond to it.

“…We have…” I tear away from a kiss to say, breathless, with my eyes closed.  “…an early flight tomorrow.”

“Let’s not sleep tonight then,” his hand burns the back of my neck.  I can’t tell if it’s the lack of air-conditioning in the room, or he’s simply feeling warm.  His fingers are tangled with my hair when he runs his hand along my back, which sends shivers down my spine.  With much ease he rolls me over, his hands busy searching for mine, and now I can feel his weight on me.  I can’t see anything else but his shadow.  That doesn’t matter, I’m having my eyes closed most of the time anyway.

When his hands find what they’ve been looking for, he laces his fingers through mine and pin me down.  _Gosh, it’s so hot when he takes control._   Jeff’s lips hungrily travel between my lips and around my neck, and that’s muddling up my mind – my brain can only process the sensation I’m currently feeling and nothing else.  I don’t even remember where I am or my name anymore.

He kisses on the side of my neck, and then he moves up a little bit, and freakin’ breathes into my ear, which instantly gives me goose bumps.  I can’t even hide my moan anymore, “Oooohh…” 

 _Damn_.  He comes even closer and whispers, right into my ears, in a breathy voice, “…You’re _so_ sexy…”

I grab him.  I grab him hard.  He’s driving me nuts.  I pretty much attack him with wild kisses.

And then he stops me.  Pulls his lips away, keeps them an inch from mine.  Teasing me.

“Argh, why?” I groan, finally open my eyes and look at him in the darkness.

I can tell that he smirks.  He speaks into my ear again, “because I like to play.”

I lift my head up to try to reach for his mouth, but he pulls back again.  “Ugh!” I throw my head back into the pillow in frustration.

With his hands next to my shoulders, planted deep into the mattress to support himself, he takes his sweet time to just freeze there and enjoy his upper hand.  I am actually starting to get angry when he suddenly decides it’s time to fry my brain with the most passionate kiss ever.  I mean, it’s a kiss, yes, but it’s so full of feelings and it’s so…so arousing.  All I want is, well, to want more.

His hands are all over me.  I do my best to hold onto him or else I think I’d pass out.  The kisses are taking all the oxygen away.  All I do in between is to breathe and to mumble recognizable words.

“Oh god…oh god…” I let out yet another sigh.  “Mmm….”

“…I love you…” Jeff mumbles into my neck.

“I…aaaahhh…” I’m given no chance to say anything, or you can say I’m only making noises into his mouth.  “…T…Tom…”

Everything slows down into a halt.

“What did you say?” He whispers.

I frown, “huh?”  My hand starts sweeping across the back of his neck.  I want to pull him close again.  _Why has he stopped?_

“I thought I heard something.  Did you say something?”

“No I didn’t.  Come on,” both of my hands are putting weight on his neck now in an attempt to pull him close and shut him up.

“…You did.  Did you say ‘Tom’?”

A deep furrow appears on my forehead as I try to understand what he’s just said and also to recall if I really did say “Tom”.

_What?  Of course I didn’t!_

Wait.

Hm…

Shit.

_Maybe I did._

_I did say something that starts with a T._

_Damn you Julia!!!  What were you thinking?  Did you really just say Tom’s name in the middle of_ that?  _What the hell?  Seriously, WHAT.  THE.  HELL.  But gosh, there’s no freakin’ way I’d admit that._

I look left and right, even though Jeff may not be able to see it in the dark.  I say, hoping to sound convincing enough, “No I really didn’t.”


	19. Hello from the Past

Not knowing if he’s convinced, I repeat what I’ve just said slowly.  I even blame it on the alcohol, and try to tell him that he’s drunk so he must have heard it wrong. 

He freezes right there and after a few seconds, he shrugs and throws himself in the bed next to me, mumbling, “Gotta try to catch some sleep.  _Bonne nuit_ , baby.”  He grabs the blanket and rolls over, suddenly looking like a cute big baby again.  “I love you,” he whispers before he falls asleep.

“I love you too,” I say into the darkness.  I don’t even know if he hears it, but the words make me feel bad inside.  How could I say Tom’s name when I’m in bed with my _husband_?  It must be the many drinks we’ve had.  Yes, that’s it.  Sigh.  Well, I’m sleepy.  Gotta sleep.

***

Everything seems to be fine the next morning.  There’s no fight and no mention of last night.  Jeff acts like himself again and all we do is to concentrate on getting there to the airport on time.  There _might_ be a second of weird look from Jeff the moment we got up, like, he has his head tilted to one side and tried to recall something that’s happened before but then he quickly decided to dismiss it.  Even I myself aren’t that sure if whatever happened really did happen last night – did I imagine it or was the memory slightly altered due to the alcohol consumption and little sleep? 

Okay. 

Something’s better left forgotten.  So, oh well, I’m not gonna keep dwelling on it.

Luckily it’s a really short flight from Dublin back to the UK.  Stupid Ryanair, it’s absolutely absurd to charge passengers for using the lavatory.  I’m just going to hold it in until we land.  At least the seats are more spacious than the intercontinental flights I’m used to.

I try to catch some more sleep as soon as we sit down but Jeff seems to be really excited about Scotland.  He has his guidebook out and reading it fervently during the entire flight.

Edinburgh is lovely, and relaxing.  I love being surrounded by all these trees and grass.  And of course the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful too.  Jeff and I are both museum freaks and naturally we have fun there.  We spend two nights in town and we wish we had reserved more days for this place.  We’ll definitely be back sometime. 

Strangely, _just a secret between you and me_ , Jeff has never tried to be intimate for both of the nights.  Yes he’s still the best husband ever, but I don’t know why…is it because the daily sightseeing has tired him out?  I don’t know for sure.  But since I don’t have a high libido myself, I don’t really mind that.  Perhaps that’s the case for him too?  That would make us an even more compatible couple!  I’m only worried that he’s spooked by that night when I (now, now, that might have never happened) called out Tom’s name.  I don’t want that to be a thing between us.

The thing is, I just can’t seem to be able to forget about it.  I feel like there’s a piece of rock pressing against my chest when we’re approaching London.  I _know_ Tom’s there because of his latest tweets.  If I were travelling with Talia, I could tell her and she would remind me to take deep breaths.  And I could freak out and flail my arms around in front of her.  But I’m travelling with Jeff and obviously I can’t do any of those.  I find myself puffing my cheeks out and blow air through my mouth from time to time, in an attempt to calm myself down.  Jeff has noticed it and checked if I’m doing fine.  I hastily shrug it off.

Alice and I have arranged a dinner shortly after my arrival in London because we miss each other a lot and she can’t wait to see the newlyweds.  So after settling down in the hotel, a quick walk around the block and then a much-needed nap in the afternoon, we head back out to take the Tube to meet up with Alice.

“Hey sweetie, can you carry this for me for a sec?”  We’re waiting for the light to change to cross a road and I realize that my hair is stuck messily between the scarf and coat and sweater, so I ask Jeff to hold my handbag for me so that I can fix it.

“Okay,” he reaches his hand out for me to hang the bag around it.

I try to be careful not to hit anyone with my elbow while I’m at it.  I’m just having a bobby pin between my teeth when I hear a loud “HEY!”

Damn.

I put my arms down gingerly to look who’s next to me and ready to apologize like crazy.

“Hey you!” A middle-aged man grins at me.  I take a quick glance left and right to make sure he’s talking to me.  And then suddenly I recognize his face.

“Joseph!  Hi!” I hurriedly pull my hair over one side of my shoulder and seeing that I’ve finished, Jeff gives me back my handbag.

“Such a nice s’prise to see you here!  I thought ah, Tom said that you’re in the states or…Canada?”

“Canada,” I nod with a smile.  The pedestrian light has turned green so we start crossing the street.

“Oh, so what brought ya here in London?”

“We’re on our honeymoon,” I casually point at Jeff who’s walking on my right.

His eyes widen, “Congratulations!”  We reach the other side of the road and Joseph extends his hand to Jeff for a handshake.  “Congratulations!”

“Ah, how rude of me.  Joseph, this is Jeff.  Jeff, Joseph.  He’s a friend of Tom’s.”  I say when they still have their hands in each other’s.

Jeff nods politely, “Nice to meet you.”

“Me too,” Joseph returns his hands into his pockets after the handshake.  “Well, ah, I’ve got to hurry along.  Pleasure seein’ you again.  Enjoy your trip!”

“Thank you!” Jeff and I sing in unison as Joseph turns around.

“You really do know so many people everywhere,” Jeff sweeps his hair away from his forehead.  “So, Tom’s friend, ‘uh?”  He tries to make it sound casual but somehow it still sounds so…subtly intrusive.

“Yeah,” I put my arm through the circle his arm makes.  “I met him that night when they were watching the tennis match.  You know…the night when you saw Chuck on webcam?”

“Ah!”

“Joseph was also there.  He brought a whole cake to eat because his wife wouldn’t allow him to have his desserts these days hahahaa!”

“Sneaky!”

We keep giggling and chatting like a normal couple does.  We’ve decided to get off the Tube several stations before our destination so that I can show a few tourist attractions to Jeff before we meet up with Alice in the Soho area.  Fortunately Jeff is a person with such strong self-discipline that whenever I’m with him, I’m never late for anything - we still have some time before the meeting with Alice.

We get out from Marble Arch in order to catch a glimpse of the beautiful Hyde Park.  I can also point out the Speakers’ Corner for Jeff.  The plan is to walk along Oxford Street later to reach our destination.  As soon as we’re at the ground level again, I look around and am swarmed with a weird feeling…it’s almost like a panic attack.  I blink hard, trying to focus, trying to regulate my breathing.  My knees have turned into jell-o and the light is too bright for my eyes.  I hold onto Jeff’s hand and not letting go, afraid that I would pass out at any second.  Since I’ve tried so hard to act normal, I haven’t let Jeff notice anything out of ordinary.  We’re waiting at another traffic light to cross the road again and _damn, what’s this feeling that just won’t go away?_   My eyes can’t stop darting around and this weird déjà vu keeps haunting me, chasing behind so closely that it’s almost hunting me. 

“Honey, can you hold this for me for a while?”  I make my best effort to utter the words, making them sound natural enough.

“Uh, for how long?” Jeff takes the bag and asks.

Ow.

I feel this pang in my heart.  Now I know what it is.

 _Now_ it all comes back to me.  This place.  Horse-drawn carriage.  Waiting to cross the road.  Handbag.

_“Oh, I can have my bag back, thanks.”  I ask him the second we start walking._

_“Ahh, it’s okay,” he replies with a caring smile, shaking his head._

_“But it’s a girly bag!”_

_“Well then, I should be man enough to carry it.”_

_“To-om.” I give him a half-hearted, joking glare, as we stop to wait for a traffic light._

_“Julia-a.” He raises his eyebrow at me challengingly._

_“I’ll scream that you’ve robbed my handbag.”_

_“You won’t dare.”  He pulls me closer and plants a kiss above my forehead._

_“Someone likes girly bags.” I’m not giving in._

_“Only yours,” he sings._

The whole scene replays in my head.  I can remember everything, down to the very last detail.  All in a sudden, I can breathe again, barely, but yes, now I know what’s going on – I haven’t moved on at all.  I’ve decided to come back without realizing it consciously.  I even keep doing the same thing (having someone to carry my handbag) just to relive that moment.

Jeff is _not_ a replacement.  He’s different.  He’s another man who I love. 

I grab my bag back and reply, “It’s okay, I’ll carry it.  I don’t need you.”

“Babe,” he frowns.  “You know I didn’t mean it.  Give it to me.”

“No, don’t worry about it.  It’s okay.”  I pat on his shoulder and give him a smile, “I’m fine.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  Let’s go.”  I point at the green light with my chin.

Sigh.  It’s even the same freakin’ street.  _Stay calm.  Keep yourself together.  Just remember to breathe._   Luckily we’re not turning into Baker Street like Tom and I did back then.  So at least this part of street is going to belong to the memory of Jeff and me, exclusively.  I’m already feeling much better, and I’m looking forward to seeing Alice again.  I know it hasn’t been _that_ long but I used to have lunch with her every day when we worked together.  Being apart for some months is long enough for us.  I miss our quality girl time! 

We’re getting closer to Soho when I spot an Accessorize on the other side of the street.  “Ohmigod!”  I gasp, pull on Jeff’s sleeve and point at the shop.

Jeff shakes his head, “Nononono I know that look.  We..we don’t have enough time!”

I pout, “Just a short look!  You don’t understand, the things they sell here are much cheaper than those they sell in the same shop back home!”

“Baby we shouldn’t be late…”  He doesn’t even budge.  Argh!

“Come on…two minutes?” I give my best shot to look cute.  “I promise!  You can drag me out after two minutes.  Cross my heart.”

Jeff rolls his eyes and follows me to the shop without saying a word.

Wow, those clutches!  Those rings!  Those bracelets!  And they _are_ cheaper than those back home.  I have fun browsing while Jeff follows closely, he acts as if he’s afraid that if he wanders off, he’d be sucked into a black hole of butterflies and floral bling bling stuff.

Oh my god look at that!

It’s on sale too!  It’s perfect – I love this wallet!  “Look, Jeff!”  I pull him closer to take a closer look, even though he’s actually following pretty closely already.  “Isn’t this beautiful?  Look at the butterfly on the wallet…it’s perfect!”

“Sweetie…”

“It’s on sale too!  So nice!”  I’m so excited that I need to stop myself from jumping up and down.

“Is your wallet broken?”

“No, but I’ll use this one when my current one breaks.”

“And you’ll bring this back ‘ome and keep it there?”

“Well, I think I’ll keep it at _our_ place and so I’ll have a new wallet to use when it’s time.”  I know where this conversation is going and I’m not going to give in.

“I’ll need a bigger apartment…” He complains.

Tom would have encouraged me to buy it.  It’s only £5 for God’s sake.  If I don’t buy this I’m sure I’ll regret it, but if I do, Jeff is going to put me on a guilt trip.  This is so not fun.

“Let’s go.” I take a deep breath and declare.

“Not buying that?”  He sounds dumbfounded.

“No, don’t want to anymore.”  I walk towards the exit of the shop.

“Because of me?”

I refuse to answer such a stupid question.  But I don’t want to start a fight or start acting like a spoiled brat, “No, I…changed my mind.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” I grab his arm and pull him away out of the shop.  “Let’s get outta here before I change my mind again.”

***

There must be something about those deep strawberry blond curls that makes them stand out that clearly among all the people.  I spot Alice from far away the second we walk into the area.  When she sees me, she waves like crazy and her curls bounce as she’s doing so. 

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” We both scream and run into each other’s arms.

“Look at you!” Alice places both her hands on my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length to take a good look at me.  “You’re glowing!  Your husband must have spoiled you rotten.”  Jeff catches up behind me and Alice turns to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.  “Thanks for taking such good care of my girl!”

Jeff scratches his head rather bashfully, “Ah, she’s the boss.”

I wrinkle my nose at him, “Yeah, right.”

“Aaawww…” Alice claps her hands together.  “You guys are so cute!”

“Stop.  Who are you and what have you done to my Alice?”

“I’m just excited to see you again,” she replies defensively.  And then her phone beeps.  “Excuse me.”  She swipes her fingertip across the screen and initially seems to take a quick glance at the message.  But whatever it is, it’s caught enough of her attention to type back a reply.  Jeff and I stand there to wait, looking around at the people and taking in the scenes.

“Pssst!” Alice signals me to come closer for her whisper.

“What?”

She whispers next to my ear, “Did you tell Tom that you’re here?”

I look at her in horror, “No way!”

“I haven’t told him either,” she looks equally terrified.  “But how does he know?”

“What do you mean?”

“He sent me a message to ask me where I am, and when I told him, he said that he’s also nearby and would like me to join him for something to eat.  And he asked if you’re with me too!”

“What?”  I can’t believe my ears.  But then I remember.  “Damn, it must be Joseph.”

“Joseph who?”

“A friend of Tom’s.  I just ran into him when we’re on our way here.”

“Would Jeff be okay with it if we all have dinner together?”  Alice asks.

I peek over my shoulder, “Hm, yeah, I don’t see why not.  I’ll check with him anyway…hey honey?”  I speak with my normal voice again.  “Do you mind if Tom joins us for dinner?”

He shrugs, “Okay.”  Honestly, he’s still looking a bit sleepy.  I don’t think he cares at all.  He probably just wants a quick dinner and then go back to the hotel to sleep.

Alice texts Tom back and she tells us that he’ll be meeting us here soon so we’ll stay put to wait for him.  I don’t know how calm I can manage to pretend but it’s taking all my best efforts to focus on the conversation going between Alice and Jeff and me.  I’m trying to act all casual but of course I’m hypersensitive to any tall figures around us, in case it could be Tom and I can pretend to be surprised to see him again.  I’ve also realized, very much to my horror, that I’m wearing the necklace with the butterfly charm Tom gave me at the airport.  What idea would it give him when he sees it?  It’d be awfully strange if I suddenly take it off now so I have no choice but to keep it on.  Hopefully Tom would be smart enough not to mention it.

“Ah, there they are!”  Alice, being taller than me and can see farther than I can, spots Tom from a distance.

_Wait.  “They”?_

I follow the direction she’s looking at. 

And then there they are, an approaching Tom, with a beautiful girl walking by his side, holding his hand.


	20. Twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There should be around two chapters before "Jeff's world" ends. My original plan is to switch back to "Tom's world" from next chapter (or after one more chapter of Jeff's world), so I can end both of the worlds at around the same time. It would be a bit strange to have one world ended so many chapters before the other one finishes. What do you think? :)

I need to pick my jaw up from the floor.

_What?  How could he?  I’m still here licking my wound but he…he…_

My lips, however, are automatically pulled into a tight curved line and seem to be stuck in a forced smile as Tom and his companion approach.

“Hi Ali!”  Tom frees his hand from the girl’s to give Alice a half-hug and a cheek kiss.  “Nice to see you again!  And you, sir,” he extends his hand towards Jeff, as confidently as always.  “I’m honoured to be able to meet you in person, finally.

Jeff takes his hand and shakes it.  He probably doesn’t know what to reply to Tom so he simply smiles politely, “Nice to meet you too.”

And then it’s my turn.  My wide grin is still plastered across my face.  I go for a handshake, “Hi…”  _Don’t overdo it.  Don’t overdo it._   “…Again.”

He stares at me for a millisecond.  And yet it already makes me hold my breath so hard my face is going blue.  He decides to hug me and kiss on my cheek instead.  With Jeff by my side, I don’t dare to hug back or anything.  I just stand there and keep smiling, no matter how long and how much efforts it takes, as if I were in the spotlight on the stage – just keep smiling.

“This is Sharon,” Tom twists around and introduces.  The girl smiles coyly and nods at us politely.  But I can’t bring myself to really look at her yet.  I don’t want to let the secret jealousy in my eyes give me away.

Tom looks like, well, Tom.  All gorgeous and eye-catching and self-assured as he always is.  There’s something different about him though, he is different from before but I can’t quite put my finger on it.  He does look intimidating when he’s not smiling…he  _was_ smiling a moment ago but now when we start walking, he’s just staring straight ahead with that intense glare of his.  I can only manage to catch a glimpse since I can’t be caught staring.

At least that girl is pretty, now that I’ve taken a better look of her.  She’s a beautiful brunette – really nice hair and a sweet smile.  She’s got big brown eyes that make her look super sweet and innocent.  Her fringe is swept to the side and it rests slightly above her right eyes.  She’s taller than me and gosh, of course Tom deserves someone like her than me to be by his side.  I know my heart keeps screaming, “ _it could have been YOU, it could have been YOU!_ ”, but it’s your freakin’ choice!  STOP IT!

I wish I could pull off that kind of skinny jeans like she does.  And that Victoria’s Secret Angels kinda hair… _sigh_.

We arrive at a restaurant, Jesus, I don’t even know where I’m going.  All my attention is on my energy shield – to stay looking sane and chipper, and to hold onto Jeff’s arm like a cute little wife.  I’m now hypersensitive at whatever Tom does.  Jeff may be feeling the same too because he’s doing all these little things…he probably doesn’t want to appear to be any less than the mighty Tom.  I pull the chair out myself before Jeff does though, since I don’t want him to feel the need to act so strange – this is not him.  Of course it’s sweet of Tom to do all those gentlemanly stuff but Jeff is sweet in his own way, he doesn’t need to copy Tom.

But this is  _Awkward_.  Yes, with a capital A.  Look at the situation here – so here are all of us: Tom, Sharon the new girl, Jeff, Alice and me.  Tom and I know what’s happened between us, Alice kind of knows, Jeff has suspected something but we hopefully have convinced him that there’s nothing, and Sharon doesn’t know shit.   I’m sure of it because I don’t feel anything from her.  If she knew what’s happened before, she would definitely not look at me in that way.  The seats we’ve picked are ridiculously awkward too – Alice is sitting at the end of the table like the chairlady and that scares me more, on top of the fact that I’ve been feeling her frequent stare to check if Tom and I are “okay”.   _Is this a test?  Is this whole rendezvous a test?_ I avoid her eyes and keep turning my head to look at Jeff, who’s sitting on my left, since he’s left-handed.  We always sit like this just so that our arms won’t bump into each other’s while we eat.  Guess what though.  Yes, you know what’s coming don’t you?  Tom’s sitting right across me, with Sharon on his right.  I secretly breathe a sigh of relief when I’ve done a mental check of the table and decide it’s large enough and Alice is sitting between us so Tom’s legs won’t be touching mine.

It’s a lot warmer indoor so as soon as we’re out of our coats and jackets, we take off our scarves and gloves right after we’ve got comfortable in the seats.  I try my best to hide my necklace with my long hair but –

Sharon takes off her fashionable checked scarf, puts it aside and flips her hair over her shoulders…then I see it.  She’s wearing  _it_. 

My heart cringes.   I literally can’t move for a second.  My hand then reaches up to see if I’m still wearing my necklace, the one that I’ve thought is unique, one-of-a-kind….yes it’s bought from a big international chain store, but it holds a special place in my heart.  I’ve never seen any other people wearing it, anyway.  And even if they do, I wouldn’t care.  Because I know they haven’t got it from Tom.  But this one…

 _She_  is wearing it.  The same butterfly charm.  It’s even in the same colour. 

I should keep my mouth shut, but my mouth moves before my brain can stop it.  I need to know.  “Good taste!” I burst out and point at her necklace.

“Oh, this?” She grins brightly and immediately turns to face Tom, who has frozen in his chair.  “He suggested that I should get this one when –“  That’s the moment she sees my identical necklace.  “Hey, you’re wearing the same thing!” She squeals, entirely out of surprise.

I trace the butterfly wings with my fingertips, extremely aware of the stares from the others at the table, especially that of Tom’s.  I blink away my uneasiness, and smile back at her, “Yes I am!  Great minds think alike, huh?  So Tom told you to get this one?”

Tom tightens his jaw and lips.  He’s quiet but is looking at the exchange with round eyes.  I don’t understand what he’s thinking.  He initiates this get-together and he thought things like this wouldn’t happen?  He shouldn’t be that stupid!  But now he really looks like things are not in his control and he doesn’t know what to do.  To be honest, I’m enjoying it.   _How dare you show up with another girl, and to arrange this meeting just to…to show me your new girl?  How do you feel now that I have the power in my hand?_

“Oh yes, he was helping me choose something for my sister’s birthday the other day.  We were at this shop and when I was looking around, he saw this and told me that I should get it for myself.  I usually wear simpler designs but Tom,” her eyes return to Tom, who looks back with a sudden cheerfulness.  “He insists this looks good on me so I thought to myself, why not?  …So what about you?  I think the necklace matches you very well.”

I glance at Tom, who’s now studying my face.  I know what he’s thinking and the question now is, would I take the high road?

“Ah…it’s a gift from a dear friend.”  I answer Sharon but I’m not looking at her.  Tom’s just started narrowing his eyes at me when I decide to giggle at Jeff and add, “All my friends know that I’m crazy about butterflies.  They get me all sorts of butterfly stuff.”

Jeff lifts his eyebrows and looks around the table, “Yes!  I can tell you all…this is true.”  He clicks his tongue, “She basically wants  _everything_  butterflies!”

I roll my eyes jokingly, and appeal to the girls, “He stopped me from having my butterflies wedding bouquet!  I  _love_  it but he said it was too unconventional, huh!”  I fish my iPod out from my handbag and show everyone a picture of the bouquet I’ve downloaded from Martha Stewart.

Both Alice and Sharon love the bouquet and go all ooh and aah, but Jeff’s getting more excited now that he’s got an audience listening to the butterfly invasion problem.  “Her butterflies are invading my man cave.”

I play along, “But sweetie, I’ve been a good girl.  I didn’t even buy the butterfly wallet on our way here, remember?”

“Only because I stopped you,” he smirks with pursed lips.

“No you did not!” Alice gasps.  She knows about my prob…ah, interest.

“Come on, Jeff, man.  It comes with the whole package,” The clutch around my heart loosens instantly, seeing Tom’s comfortable enough to join the conversation.  “You love her, you love the butterflies.”

It feels  _so_  good to have people on my side.  “Yes, honey, the man cave looks pretty with the  _papillons_  too.  I’m simply beautifying it!”

Jeff pouts, and hangs his head low dramatically, making one of his cutest sad puppy faces.  Then he sniffles audibly to pretend he’s sobbing.

“Aw, honey,” I put my hand on his arm.  “I won’t overdo it, I promise.”

“…Okay!”  He nods like a little kid, smiling again.  He always melts my heart with all these little acts.  He’s adorable.  I know he’s not really mad with the whole butterfly business because he once told me that he doesn’t mind it, as long as I’m not transforming the whole place into a butterfly world.

I hope Alice is happy.  I hope I’ve put on a good show for everyone.   _Don’t get me wrong.  I love Jeff so much that I would die for this man._ But doing all these in front of Tom…it feels weird.

When the waiter comes and takes our orders, Sharon spots something funny on the menu, giggles and shows it to Tom, who in return raises his famous right eyebrow and grins.

It doesn’t take them long to notice the rest of us are getting curious. 

“Sorry, how rude of me!  One of the desserts here reminds me of a previous one we had earlier this afternoon…”  She shakes her head with that wide grin still plastered over her face.  When she resumes, all I can see in her eyes is excitement and wonder.  “Tom took me to this amazing themed afternoon tea today – “

Before she goes on, I already know what it is.  My brain is automatically going through my memory archive. 

“Everything was about Alice in the Wonderland – from the tableware to the menu to the food…everything was so carefully designed!”  She’s all hyped up about “this awesome place” and keeps recommending it for us.

Tom is obviously trying to mirror her excitement but it’s not excitement at all that I sense from his occasional glance.  He looks down or looks away whenever he catches me looking back.  He looks insecure and I notice a flash of sadness in his eyes.  He’s also trying to tell me something through his brainwaves or something.   _What are you doing, Tom?  Why are you torturing yourself…or if you’re not doing that, why are you trying to replace all our memories with somebody else?_   God, I need to keep myself distracted.  I need to change the mood around the table.  I sit up straight and put my clenched fists on the table excitedly, “Were you late?”

Sharon looks confused all in a sudden, “Sorry, late for what?”

“The rabbit hole?”

Tom sniggers.

“Huh?  What rabbit hole?”   _Oh my god, how can she not get it?_

Tom’s face breaks into a teethy grin, the lines around his eyes are showing.  “We’re late!  We’re late!  For a very important date!  We’re very late indeed!”  Tom sings in a cartoonish voice, swings his one arm to pretend he’s running while he lifts his another wrist to look at the time.

I can’t help but giggle.  The others follow suit, even though I don’t know if they’ve completely got it now.

“Have you also been there before?  You’d know how magical it is!”  Sharon’s eyes are still widened from the great memory of that place.

“Yes I have.”  I don’t dare to look at Alice, since she must have figured it all out by now.  “And indeed it’s magical!  Jeff, honey,” I twist my waist again.  “Would you like to check it out tomorrow?”

“Of course!”

“And Alice,” I gotta make it up before I’m killed by the deadly glare.  “Do you want to check it out too?  Let’s put Alice back into the Wonderland.”  I pull a face.

Even Alice is interested in the sound of it, regardless of what she’s figured out about Tom and me.  It should be okay as long as I show to her that what I have between Jeff and me is solid.

“Yes, sure!  Maybe I can have the tea for free too since I  _am_  Alice!”  She chuckles at her own joke.

Silly jokes like these always help lighten up the mood.  Everything looks so civilized and everyone seems to be having a good time.  I can’t believe I can be sitting here, opposite to Tom once again and we can act as if nothing’s happened before.  His gaze though, feels unsettling whenever it catches my eyes.

Jeff’s relieved to see Tom has got himself someone because that means he has no reason to bother me anymore.  He seems to be more willing to accept Tom now.  He even invites him for a drink after dinner.

Everyone but Alice go to a pub nearby to keep the night going.

I’m sure Tom has things to say to me.  But I’m not letting him have the chance to.  No way I’d let that happen.   _What’s there to talk about anyway?  Isn’t everything perfect right now?_   Jeff and I are married; Tom has moved on and found himself a nice girl.  Alice approves of what I’ve done.  This is how the picture should look like, shouldn’t it?  Whatever Tom says would ruin it.

I wait until Jeff gets up for the washroom before I go and join him, knowing that Tom wouldn’t dare to say anything strange in front of him.  I stand up and excuse myself right after he’s left the table, so I expect to be having his company when we come back to the table later.  There’ll be no chance for me to be alone.

A bunch of people get in my way when they’re waiting to be seated.  And then I need to make way for a server who’s having too many plates in his tray.  I can’t be more than 1 minute later than Jeff but as I’m getting nearer to the restroom, he’s already out, waving at me happily, “Hello wifey!”

Huh?  “Wait – “ I swirl around, suddenly panicking.  But he’s already gone.

 _It’s gonna be alright.  It’s gonna be alright.  Hope for the best._   He won’t dare to make it that obvious.  He wouldn’t try to do anything with Sharon and Jeff being so close by.  I’d just be quick and go back to the table before he acts on any of his impulsive ideas.

When I’m done and ready to exit the washroom, I take a peek through the crack of the door before coming out.  Seeing that there’s nobody outside, I walk out guardedly. 

“Hi, Julia.”

 

He nearly scares me out of my skin.  His silhouette towers me once I’ve emerged completely from the washroom.  It turns out that he’s been waiting in the corner, next to the public payphone.


	21. Crash and Burn

It’s a poorly lit secluded part of the pub – just this little short dark hallway with two adjacent doors leading to the two washrooms, and a public payphone opposite to them.  There’s this huge sad-looking potted plant shielding the two washroom doors from the main sitting area too.  The live band is playing but they’re now playing something less noisy so I can actually hear every word that comes out from Tom’s mouth.

“It’s not what you think,” he gestures and walks towards me.

I need to escape from here before he corners me.  So I turn on my heel and aim at walking around the plant and back to Jeff and Sharon out there.  I wave at Tom dismissively, not even looking at him, “You don’t owe me any explanation, Tom.”

“I do.” He replies sternly, taking one step to his side and effectively blocks me from going anywhere.

“No, you don’t.  Please let me get back to my _husband_.”  I emphasize on the word to make it sound so important as if I were being summoned by the Queen herself.

“Please, Julia, hear me out.”

I raise my palm to shush him, but instead he takes my hand with one smooth move and cups it in both of his hands.

“Don’t touch me!” I hiss.  I try to pull my hand back but he’s not letting it go.

A man happens to walk out from the washroom and is now alerted by my words.  “Excuse me, m’am, is he bothering you?”

 _Oh dear.  I don’t want Tom to get into troubles._   Tom freezes right there, but I shake my head and smile at that man, “No, no, no…just having a little disagreement here.  Thank you, though.”

“Are you sure?”  He asks again, afraid that I’m only saying it in Tom’s presence.

“Yes,” I nod, quite desperately, since I only want to get out of there as anonymously as possible.  I still care about Tom though and I don’t want him to be mistaken as an abuser or anything.  “I’m sorry to be in your way.”  I hastily pull Tom aside, away from the doors but still hidden behind the plant so that Jeff and Sharon won’t be able to see us.

After giving us one last uncertain glance, the man finally leaves us alone.

Tom notices that he’s still holding my hand, and now he suddenly lets it go, like he’s just realized what he’s done.

“Really, there’s nothing that we need to discuss.  Haven’t we agreed on that already?”  I stare at him right in the eyes.

“But I…” Tom frowns, his eyes glistening, reflecting the few lights around us.  It makes him look like he’s tearing up. 

Without saying another word, he takes another step forward.  My back touches the wall now.  I push against his chest to keep him from advancing.  This is inappropriate.  I’m a married woman and my husband is right outside expecting my return.  Tom’s date is waiting for him to go back too.

Once again he reaches for my hand, which is already on his chest, and puts it over his heart.  _God.  You have no idea how much I’d want to just…simply step forward and let him hold me in his arms.  One more time.  I want to feel that kind of unique warmth.  Just one more time._   _I wish my hand could stay there forever.  I think I put my hand back there because subconsciously, I want it to be there._

“Julia, please.  Can’t you feel my heart beating for you?”  The music has turned louder and he’s now standing even closer to let me hear him more clearly.  His stare looks incredibly intense yet gentle in a way.  “I’ve tried, I’ve tried very hard.  But I can’t do it.  I’m miserable no matter what I do.”

My eyes dart left and right between his since he’s so close to my face right now.  It hurts to hear that he’s been suffering.  I’ve never wanted this…I thought he’s been doing fine.  I thought he’s been okay without me.  “Perhaps…you should stop doing things that would remind you of me?”  I pause to swallow the lump in my throat.  “Like, buying the same necklace for someone else?”

Tom’s eyes go wide.  He looks shocked, “It…it’s not like that…”  He frantically makes up a reason, any reason.  “It’s a pure coincidence.  She happens to like it too like you do.”

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering how this man, who’s renowned for his eloquence, has been reduced to…this.  It’s painful to see it.  I shake my head to reorganize my thoughts, “And it also happens that she was taken to the same afternoon tea, one that she didn’t even know about before?  One that you took _me_ to when _we_ had a date?”

“I…I…”

 _Guess what, I’ve made the mighty Tom Hiddleston speechless.  I can’t believe it._   His hand is slowly slipping on mine – it’s trembling.  I let it drop and I hold it with both my hands, caringly.

“Tom,” I let out a soft sigh.  “It almost feels like you’re trying to keep yourself miserable.  You’re torturing yourself.  I mean, don’t treat the girl like that.  If you’re only doing some sort of rebound fling, please stop hurting her…if you’re serious, give her what she deserves.”

“It’s definitely _not_ a ‘rebound fling’!” He sounds offended.

“Well, I’m just s-saying…”  I blink, and stutter.  “So…it’s serious?”

He looks down and frowns, then his gaze slowly climbs back up.  I hope it’s alcohol that’s making my cheeks burn.  “Julia…” he breathes out.  “You’re the only one I love.  You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.  You think it’s easy to see that you’re married now, to another man?  I’ve tried to move on, but I don’t know _why_ I can’t!”  He bangs his fist on the wall behind me, but he doesn’t go all the way – it’s a suppressed, hesitant punch.  He hangs his head low, which makes him end up breathing right next to my ear.  “I love you…I love you.”

I would like to think that it’s the alcohol speaking.  I don’t want to listen to anything he’s saying.  They’re…t – they hurt.  A lot.

I bite my lip hard to try to stop my tears from emerging.  I take a deep breath and look up to the ceiling, which should help, but my nose is clogging up.  I sniffle, “Tom.  Please.  You’re making it worse.”

He’s not listening at all.  He continues, trapping me between the wall and himself, “It’s unfair.  I’ve tried so hard.  I’ve come so far.  It takes all that I have to put on a smile every day.  But you’re right there,” he presses his palm against the side of his head before running his fingers through his hair.  “M-my whole head is filled with images of you, and the memories we share…”

 _Stop.  Stop this._   I can’t hear any of these anymore.  I don’t want to feel any guiltier to have broken his heart.  I count to three in my mind and brace myself, “Sorry Tom, but I need to get back to my husband.”

There’s a sharp inhale next to my head.  I squeeze my eyes shut.  “Why are you doing this to me?  Why have you come back to London?”  He’s raising his voice.

“Tom – “

“Don’t you UNDERSTAND?”  He’s straightened up and is gesturing wildly, his arms and fingers pointing everywhere.  Fortunately, he manages to stop himself before he explodes.  He lets out a heavy sigh, “…I need you.  My little one.  I need you.”

He’s playing dirty.  He doesn’t have the right to use that nickname again.

“But the girl…Sharon…and Jeff…they…” I’m almost too afraid to mention the names to Tom now.

Of course those would be the exact words to trigger him.  He whips out his arm, his finger points at the direction where they should be sitting, and he roars, “Don’t you see?  She’s NOBODY to me!”

I hear a loud gasp.

Tom’s finger is pointing directly at Sharon in her face, who’s just walked in on us.  She’s covering her mouth with both of her hands, her eyes so big that they’re going to fall out from their sockets.

Silence.  Except the music that’s still playing in the background, but slightly blurred due to the fact that we’re farther away from its source.

“What the fuck…” We both hear her despite the muffle with her hands. 

The awkward dead air only lasts so long before she makes a sharp turn and runs out of the pub.

“Fuck…” Tom curses under his breath, needing sometime to process the current situation.

“You should go after her.”

He buries the heels of his hands in his temples, “What’s the point?”

“Tom, go after her before you regret it.”

“I won’t.”  He’s staring at the direction where she’s run out.

“I don’t care what’s happening between you two or what you’re doing with her, but as a decent human being, and that’s what you’d do to a complete stranger too, you should go at least check on her to see if she’s okay.”  He keeps his feet firmly on the floor.  But I know what makes him tick, “Tom, it’d be really rude and ungentlemanly to leave her like that.”

“…Argh, damn it.” 

He goes.

I return to our table, which allows us to look out to the streets through the windows.  “Sorry for keeping you waiting, sweetie.” I climb up the tall stool next to Jeff’s.

“It’s okay,” he shrugs.  “What’s happened with them?  I saw Sharon run out.  Is she crying?”

“I have no idea…” I lie.  From where I sit, since Jeff’s sitting next to the window, when I’m facing him I can see what’s going on outside too.  “Woah, look.”  I point at Sharon and Tom for Jeff.  They seem to be yelling at each other.  Of course we can’t hear them but it seems to be awfully heated.  Sharon is jabbing her finger at Tom frantically while Tom is saying something with his palms up.  Luckily it’s quite late and the streets are deserted, or else they’d cause quite a scene.

“That looks serious,” Jeff comments, taking a sip from his pint of cider.  He turns his back to them, “We shouldn’t be staring.”

I drag my eyes away from them.  “Yes, you’re right.”  My fingertips trace the rim of my glass…I don’t know how I should feel.  _Should I feel flattered that Tom’s not able to get over me?  Or should I feel guilty for his broken heart?  It certainly hurts though to see him like that.  This is not the Tom I know._  

“You know what, sweetie?”  Jeff speaks up, and from the corner of my eye I can see that Sharon and Tom are still out there quarreling, but it seems to be calmer now.  “I’m glad that we don’t argue like they do.”

I smile weakly at him, feeling a bit sleepy because of the alcohol.  He leans in for a kiss, before enveloping me in a hug.  My head now rests on his shoulder, which enables me to look out of the window in a direct angle.

Tom’s staring back at us.  He doesn’t look happy.  In fact, he looks even more furious than before…even from a distance, I can see the flames in his eyes.

There are only the two of us in the world again, whenever our eyes connect like this.  But this time I don’t feel the usual warmth or caring love from Tom, this time, it’s something else, something far from what I usually experience.

He holds his glare for another second, before he grabs Sharon and kisses her angrily.  He pulls her close, cups her face, and makes out with her like there’s no tomorrow.

I keep hugging Jeff because I’m fossilized.

I can’t move.

Tom’s eyes never leave mine.


	22. Urban Ninja (I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have been out of town and then my father has hurt his knee real bad :/ And then I've been watching Hannibal hahahah XD anyway here we are, back in Tom's world again! :D

Wandering aimlessly around the apartment, with a glass of water in my hand, a glass which can be called mine now because I’m always using the same one, I stop and stare at the street downstairs through the windows in the living room.

That red car is there again.  It probably belongs to one of the workers in the bakery on the corner of the street because it’s always parked there during the time when the bakery is open.  I leave a few of the windows stay ajar because the temperature is perfect.  I can simply wear a cotton Henley tee and jeans, which are my default go-to outfit to lounge around at home.  Yes I know jeans may not be the most comfortable choice of clothing but I haven’t gone shopping for clothes during all these days – the feeling of me being here only temporarily just won’t stop speaking in my head.  Also, it would help trick myself into thinking that I may go out anytime, which makes me feel a tad better than reminding myself that I’m always at home these days, not having anything to do. 

Tom’s out again for work.  At least he’s stationing in London for the time being and he insists in coming back to have dinner with me every evening.  Sometimes he doesn’t need to go to work but then he’d prefer to stay at home to read his scripts or do research for his other projects, so we hardly ever go out.  I don’t want to say anything to him because I understand that when he’s not working, he may want to stay in and relax.  It’s really stressful to go out too when we need to pay attention to our surroundings in case we’re being followed or photographed.  Sometimes I’d go out when he’s not at home, but there really isn’t much to do by myself. 

This feels more and more like a prison.  I want to do something.  I want to go somewhere.  I want to be productive. 

And above it all, I want to talk to someone.

It’s acceptable to be forced to stay at home (well, strictly speaking, nobody’s forcing me but there’s no reason for me to go out either) because sometimes that’s what I did too when I was back in my hometown.  However, it gets horribly boring and lonely not to be able to talk to anyone – it’s impossible for me to talk to Jeff, Alice, my family, or any other friends I have because none of them would understand what I’m doing here.  I’ve tried writing to Talia but she sounds like the ultimate snow queen in the digital world.  She simply doesn’t know how to express emotions online.  She can sound so cold that I’ve once received only these words: “Yes.  Okay.  I understand.”  after I’ve typed a solid 500-word email to her.  I don’t blame her though, that’s how she acts when she’s not with me in person.  But then it discourages me from typing anymore messages to her.

Hm, that mother is out again with the stroller, I have yet to find out whether the baby is a boy or a girl…

I can hear the key being turned in the door.

This is the most exciting moment every day.  I hurriedly put the glass on the coffee table and rush to the door on quick tiptoes.  Suddenly I understand how dogs feel after they’ve been left behind at home all day long.

“Darling!  I’m –“ Tom’s eyes are still on the lock as he struggles to pull the key back out, but then he sees me standing right in front of him with a happy grin.  “Woah!”

“Hehehehee!” I swing my hip from side to side, like how a dog would wag its tail.

Tom’s eyes wrinkle from his chuckles, and he gives me a warm kiss before he finally succeeds in pulling the key out from the lock and closes the door.  He hasn’t shaved for a couple of days now and his stubbles have grown softer since they’re not as short as yesterday.

“How’s your day?” I go and sit on the sofa, knowing that he’ll come and join me after he’s done putting his papers aside and changing his trousers in the bedroom.  Sometimes he’d have some water too.  By the way, now I know why the collars of all his T-shirts look so stretched.  It’s because he always takes his tees off by grabbing the collar, on top of the fact that he always hangs his sunglasses on it.

“It’s good!  It was really productive…” I can hear the belt buckle hitting the floor.  Mental note to self: Check if I need to pick his dirty laundry off the floor when he takes his shower.  “Ah, you remember Joseph?”  Drawer opened and closed.

“Yeah.”

“He’s just had a new baby yesterday!  It’s finally a girl,” he comes out from the bedroom grinning from cheek to cheek, his blue eyes are sparkling.  “He already has two boys and so both his wife and he have been wishing for a girl.  If only you could see his face today – he’s completely over the moon!”  He sits down next to me, and leans forward to pick up my glass of water and gulp it down.  “So, how was your day today?”

“It was good,” I shrug.  “I read a bit and did all the laundry and dishes.”

He pulls his chin in and gives me a side look, and I can see his eyelashes oh-so-clearly, “You know you don’t need to do all those chores.”

I smirk, “You know you don’t really have that many clothes to wash.”

His shoulders jerk from a sudden bursting of air from his nose.  He thinks for a second to come up with a clever comeback, “…Handsome men don’t need that many clothes.  We look good in whatever we wear.”  He nods with a confident wink.

I can’t believe my ears.  I gasp, “You didn’t just say  _that_!”

“Why not?”

“Aah…because you’re Tom Hiddleston?”

“Is that a statement or a question?” He teases.  He continues before I can think of anything to say, “But hey, are you saying that you don’t agree with me?” He giggles.

I open my mouth, ready to reply but yeah, even though I do agree with him, I don’t want to let him get it so easily.  “Aahh…”

He takes the one-second window to give me an open-mouthed kiss.  I half-shriek from the surprise but it’s muffled with ease.  He’s leaning forward so much that I need to tighten my abs to stay seated upright. 

“Wow, where did that come from?” I blink away my confusion when he pulls away with a smirk on his face.

“Can’t I kiss my little darling?”  He pauses briefly, “…My girlfriend?”

“Who’s your girlfriend?” I punch his upper arm playfully.  “By the way, someone’s unusually chirpy today!”

“What do you mean by that?  I’m  _always_  chirpy,” he gives me one of his signature teethy grin.  “Hey, we haven’t been out together for quite a while.  Do you fancy going out for dinner tonight?”

“I’d  _love_  to.”  I reply immediately.   _I’m bored to death being trapped in these four walls._  

“Then –“

“But,” I interrupt.  “Don’t we need to…hide or something?  We don’t need to go out if it’s not convenient.  I don’t mind staying in.”   _I do mind.  But at the same time, I’m getting truly tired of playing hide-and-seek with whoever out there._

“No,” he shrugs.  “It’s alright, we can go out.  I don’t think it’ll be inconvenient.  Besides, we haven’t gone on a proper date for quite some time.  So, would you grant me the honour to take you out for dinner?”

“Sure?” I press my lips together unsuringly.

He stops and looks at me with his head tilted to one side, “Go get dressed, darling.”

“Okay,” I stand up from the sofa but Tom pulls me back down, giggling, and pulls me in for another kiss.  “I thought we’re going out.”

“Yes we are.  I’ll let you get ready.”  He slaps on my thighs crisply.

I see his trousers on the floor when I’m in the bedroom, so I hang it back up on the coat rack.  He’s definitely not the tidiest person I’ve ever met, but his place is still quite uncluttered because he doesn’t keep a lot of things – just look at how many T-shirts he’s got and the old boots he’s always wearing.

Those trousers are back on his mile-long legs when we walk out of the apartment together.

“I’ve made a reservation already when you were getting changed.” He states as he pushes the lift button.

“So efficient!” I stand about half a meter from him, quite automatically putting some distance between us because that’s what we have to do whenever we go out after our Spanish trip.  “Hey is it going to be the place your friend’s just opened?”

“Yes!  He’s been complaining that the restaurant is already opened for weeks, but I still haven’t shown my arse there despite the fact that it’s located at my doorstep.” He places his hand gently on my waist to lead me into the elevator.

“Sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be your friends…” I lean against the wall across from Tom.  “With you being so busy all the time and hardly ever have the chance to do…stuff with them.  And then you’ll need to worry if they’re real friends or if they claim to be one for…something else.”

He pouts and glances at the ceiling before staring into the space, “I’m blessed to have so many good friends who I’ve known for years, and I’m thankful that most of them are very understanding and they are the ones who I know are there for me, not my fame or status.  And,” he gazes into my eyes.  “I’ve also got you by my side.”

I respond with a smile.

“But yeah, it does get lonely and you can’t do whatever you want.  I appreciate what I have but I don’t want to be mega-famous that people would want to buy on eBay for…a…paper cup that I’ve used or…faint at the sight of me like I were a Beatle.  That would be crazy.” He shakes his head.  We exit the elevator and wave goodbye at George.

Tom’s friend has saved him a table towards the back of the restaurant so that Tom won’t need to worry about being spotted or interrupted.  I enjoy the sight of their laughs and hugs and his friend does look he’s genuinely happy to see Tom again.  I play my part well as a good friend of Tom’s.  The restaurant isn’t far away from home at all but I let Tom lead the way in front of me on our way here.  I don’t know what they’ve told him but he’s been acting like that ever since we come back to London from Madrid.  Oh well, it’s his career and who am I to jeopardize it for selfish reasons?   That’s why we are once again good friends (only) at the little round dining table next to the kitchen.

We’re just in the middle of our main course when his phone rings.  (By the way, the food is so beautifully presented here that I need to bite my lips to stop myself from snapping food photos like a lunatic!)

“Excuse me,” he turns his head to the side and lowers his voice to answer the phone.  “Hello.”  We’re quite close now so we don’t do the whole leave-the-table-to-answer-a-phone-call thing anymore.

I keep my attention on my sea bass – it’s absolutely divine!  What’s with Tom and all these nice restaurants?  I look up at him but find that he’s frowning and looking straight at me.

That’s not a good look.  Something’s wrong.

I can hear him clearly now.  “What do you mean?...Are you sure?”  He sighs silently and his eyes dart around, looking quite desperate.  I know this would make me sound really silly but I have the feeling that we might need to leave here as soon as he finishes the call, so right now I’m actually trying to eat as much as I can before that happens.  He continues, “Oh God…yes…no, we’re out eating.”   _Hm, so they’re talking about us on the phone?_ He rests his elbow on the edge of the table and massages his temple.  “I understand, thank you.  …What’re you suggesting?”  His right eyebrow rises after a few seconds.  “Alright.  I understand.  So is the local –“ He lowers his voice again after a quick glance at me.  I can’t hear him after that.

When he’s finally off the phone, I have almost finished eating all the fish on my plate. 

“Julia, darling.” His hand reaches across the table but it’s not attempting to touch my hand.  He looks like a doctor who’s about to break the news to someone that they’re going to die in three months.   _So that’s it?  We can’t see each other anymore.  I knew it.  I gave up everything for nothing.  Well, time to go back to Jeff and beg for forgiveness, I guess?  Would my family and friends still be there in Montreal at the moment?_

The sound of his quiet sigh brings my mind back.  “I’m going to ask you to do something crazy.  Something that may make no sense to you but I’ll need to ask you to do it.  I don’t have time to explain now but I promise I’ll do that as soon as I get the chance to.  Do you understand what I’m saying?”

I nod, “Yes…”

“Here,” he takes out his wallet and counts me some cash.  “This should cover it.  I need you to walk out of this restaurant after some minutes, without me, I’m going to call you a taxi and it’ll take you to a hotel and you’ll check in and spend the night.  I’ll come and find you later when it’s safe –“

“Safe from what?” I’m alarmed.

“I’ll explain later, but it’s not the time.  It’s for your own good.  Have you got everything?  Have you got your phone with you?”

I double-check the contents in my handbag, “Yes.”

 

“Good, then I’ll call for a taxi.”


	23. Urban Ninja (II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I've had such a busy week - dealing with the tax and banks and insurance before I move out of the country. Feeling quite stressed but I still haven't finished them! I've tried my best to write this chapter whenever I have some time at home though, I hope you'll enjoy it!!! xx

Tom’s salmon is getting cold, but apparently he has lost his appetite – the only thing that he’s focusing on right now is to put me in a hotel and…away from him?

I’m dying to find out what’s going on but Tom’s tightened jaws and closed face suggest doing otherwise.  I’ve never seen Tom looking so serious, that he’s suddenly become unapproachable.  Obviously there are a lot going on his mind right now: he’s put his phone down on the table after finishing the call, and then I saw him pick his fork up, quite absent-mindedly, poked at the fish for a bit, and then put the fork back down.  At one point he’s just sitting there, frozen, and the only body part that moves is his eyes – he keeps looking around, as if he were trying to look for something or someone, but it doesn’t seem like he knows what he’s looking for.

I don’t dare to say a word.  I nervously sip on my water while waiting for his signal to tell me to leave.

“W…will you call me?  Or text me?” I ask him in a soft voice, suddenly afraid that we’ll be overheard.  The atmosphere around the table has got to me.

“Huh?”  Tom’s mind didn’t seem to be present, but he recovers.  “Yes, of course, darling.”

“Will you come to the hotel later?”

“Ah…I’m not sure…but yeah,” he squeezes his eyes shut to concentrate.  “I will be there.  No worries.  Now go.  The taxi should be here anytime.  Keep a low profile.  Don’t open the door for anyone but me.  Okay?  I’ll be with you after I’ve taken care of something.”

I nod and stand up without saying another word, gently pushing the chair back with the back of my knees.  My heart shivers as I start walking.  After one last glance at Tom, whose eyes look like they want to be with me but his body language tells that he’s going to stay, I start walking, from the comfy, thick grey carpet under the table to the shiny creamy tiles that cut across the entire restaurant.  It’s a very long and narrow restaurant with a fashion runway-like corridor in the middle and tables on both sides.  I take a deep breath and pick up my speed, staring at the floor a few meters ahead of my feet.

Once outside, I look around for the taxi.  It hasn’t arrived yet.  I don’t dare to look back inside the restaurant because from the clues I have gathered, that’s the last thing I should be doing.

_Beep!_

A curt car horn yanks my full attention back.

The driver rolls down the window next to the passenger seat and I hurry towards it with big steps.

“Did you just call for a taxi?”  The grey-haired taxi driver wrinkles his forehead as he leans over and looks up at me, who’s bending down to look inside the cab.

“Yes, erm, in fact, my boyfriend did.”

He retreats back into the darkness of the car for two seconds and then he peeks out again, “And you’re going to the Marylebone Hotel?”

“I don’t know where I’m going; my boyfriend only told me that the taxi will take me there.”

“Well, love, the hotel is right down the street.”  He points at a direction.  “It’s only a few minutes’ walk.  Are you sure you wanna take the taxi?”

I pull the corners of my mouth, “I really don’t know where I’m going or where the hotel is,” I open the door and slide in.  “So yes please.”

“As you wish.”

After three minutes, the cab comes to a stop in a typical narrow London street with 4-storey buildings lining up along both sides.  When I get out of the car, I look up at the tallest building in the street.  And by “tallest”, I mean it’s two floors higher than the others.  It does look a lot fancier than its neighbors though.  I walk past the potted trees at the entrance, into the modern, square, monochrome lobby that’s decorated with a golden ceiling and black swirly lines on a white background.

“Hello, may I help you?” A friendly middle-aged man asks as I approach the reception.

“Ah, yeah.  Just wanna see if I can stay the night…” I feel quite disoriented from the current situation – I don’t know why I’m in a hotel now and I don’t know how long I’ll need to stay.

“You’ve come to the right place!” The man looks at me above his reading glasses, cheerfully, before he stares at the computer screen and types away on the keyboard.

“Hmm…” he hums in a low tone, and narrows his eyes at the screen.  “Unfortunately our Superior Rooms are all fully booked.  Would you mind staying at our Studio Suite?”

“Suite?  …Ah, how much would that be?”  I only have about £200 in cash left with me (from Tom).  I do have my credit cards with me but I’m trying my best not to use it.

“£325 for a night, excluding VAT.  £340 if you want a full English breakfast, and that would include a £10 food and beverage credit.”  He keeps this friendly grin at me.  “Or,” he continues typing after noticing the look on my face.  “I can check our sister hotel if they have any available rooms.  It’s only about 20 minutes away, on foot.”

 _Gosh.  But Tom would expect me to be here.  Perhaps I should call him first to ask him what I should do._   “Well, let me ask my friend first.  Thanks.”  I turn around and walk towards one of the sofas to sit down.  It’s hellishly expensive to make phone calls on an internationally roaming phone but it’s an emergency.

I must have spent more than five minutes calling Tom non-stop but he’s not picking it up.  I’ve sent him a text message too just in case.  I guess I’m starting to look weird from making so many phone calls, because the girl who’s just walked in is staring at me with her eyes widened.  She decides to take the one-seater right next to my sofa, and I instinctively twist to face away from her.  After another ten minutes, which feels like an eternity of failed calls, I suddenly remember that I should have asked the receptionist if I can pay for the room on departure instead.  Then I wouldn’t need to worry too much about money because I can ask if Tom can help covering it, even though I  _hate_  asking him to spend money on me.  Still, he’s decided to put me in this hotel and I can’t get a hold of him so…(shrug), I guess it’s okay to ask him to pay?

“Excuse me?”  The girl speaks up as I’m just standing up from the couch.

I spin around, surprised, “Yes?”  The girl has long, straight, dark brown hair.  She’s wearing a pretty red trench coat and black knee-high boots.

“I hope I’m not being strange or anything, but you look familiar…have we met before?”  She stays seated and asks without a smile.

I frown, “Erm, I don’t think so.  No, I don’t think we’ve met.”

Suddenly she leans forward, sits more towards the edge, her fists clutching on her knees.  “But…I’m sure we’ve met before!  Maybe I saw you but you didn’t see me!”

 _Okay…that’s becoming a bit borderline creepy._   “Yeah…maybe…ah, look –“

“Can I borrow your phone?” She bursts out, apparently trying to keep me there with her.

“Sorry but –“

“Please?  I  _really_  need to call my husband but my battery is dead.”

“I’m sorry, but perhaps you can try to ask them?”  I point at the hotel’s front desk.  With my phone in my hand, I wave it at her quite casually, showing the screen of my cell phone, “My phone is roaming, internationally, so it’s very expensive to make a local call.”

The phone picks this exact moment to ring, and it shows “Tom” on the screen.  I think the girl sees the name on it too. 

“Hello,” I face away from the girl again and take a few steps away.  “I’m  _so_  glad to hear your voice!”  I whisper.  I keep peeking behind my shoulder to see if she’s following.  She’s not, but she’s still staring at me like the ultimate creep.

“I’m sorry, darling, to put you through this.”  Tom is also talking in a suppressed volume.  “Are you at the hotel now?”

“Yes, but they’re fully booked.”  I shake my head hurriedly.  “I mean, they only have suites left but it’s over £300 a night.  I can’t afford it.  They’re asking if I want to stay in their sister hotel instead.”

“Don’t be silly, sweetie, I’ll stop by later and so don’t worry about the money.  Are you okay though?  Is everything fine?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  I take a quick glance at the girl and take another five steps away from her.  “There’s this girl though.”

“What girl?” Tom’s voice suddenly changes.  He sounds alarmed.

“Ah, it’s probably nothing.  But she keeps saying that I look familiar, and then she demands to borrow my phone, and now…” I’m now standing behind a wall now, and I pretend to take a casual peek at the lobby.  “She’s  _still_  staring at me.”

I can hear a sharp intake of breath.  Two seconds pass.  “Listen, Julia, this is just for precautions.  I know I sound crazy now but try your best to get away from that girl.  Do  _not_  let her know where you’re going.  So don’t stay in that hotel.  Go to aah…” he sighs.  “Do you remember where Uncle Jimmy lives?”

“Yep.”

“Then let’s meet up there.  I’m going to call Uncle Jimmy to let him know.”

“Wait!  But Alice is there!”  I can feel my heart racing, from Tom’s words, from the girl’s creepy stare,  _and_  that I’ll need to go see Alice the dragon again.

“Oh.”  Tom pauses.  “Well, I’ll, I’ll be there with you soon.  Don’t worry.  Just lose that girl and get there soon alright?”

“Okay.”  I breathe, pressing the red button to end the call and then turn around –

To find the girl standing right in front of me, two inches away.

“Wh –“ She makes me jump, literally.  I stumble back.

“Who’s Alice?”  She asks with overly enthusiastic eyes that almost glow with wildness.  “And you were talking to…Tom?  My husband’s called Tom too!”

“Awesome.”  I gulp.  “S-sorry but I ah, I need to go.”  I try to go around her.  She’s stopped following me, but I suddenly sense some…hostility from her.   _Gotta hurry._

My first instinct is to ask the front desk to call a taxi for me, but I don’t want the girl to know my next move.  So instead, I ask the front desk for a notepad.  Luckily the girl is back sitting on the couch.   _If she isn’t this crazy, she’s actually quite an attractive girl.  Her eyes are just…scary.  Okay.  Don’t look.  Don’t look._   I intentionally tear off the first page from the notepad before I start writing just so that the girl would have no chance to find out what I’ve written from the impression I may leave behind on the second piece of paper.  I crouch over the paper as I’m writing on the side of the front desk, and then I whisper to the kind man at the reception, “Excuse me, sir.”

“Yes?  Have you decided on the room?”  The friendly grin never leaves his face.

“Ah,” I push the paper across the counter to him.

**_Help.  I do NOT know the girl who’s been talking to me.  (the one in the red trench coat) I think she’s following me.  I don’t know what she wants.  Can you please help me call a taxi quietly so that I can get out of here and ditch her?  Please help me._ **

The man looks up from above his glasses again and glances at the girl behind me.  He doesn’t say anything but gives me a subtle nod before retreating into the back room.

He reappears after a few minutes (thank God that the girl hasn’t come to me again, she’s now looking at stuff on her phone but I’m 90% sure that’s a pretense).  “This way please, ma’am.”  He gestures towards the left of the front desk which leads to an unmarked corridor.

“Oh!  Are you leaving already?”  The girl springs up from the chair.

I freeze on the spot, not knowing what else to do.

The kind man walks towards her and leads her to the front desk which is now stationed by a younger man, “Please ma’am, our staff here would be happy to assist you.  Joey, please help this lady.”

“Sure,” Joey replies.

The older man doesn’t waste another second and immediately returns to me, “Come on now, hurry up.”  He whispers as he walks past.

I try to stay close.  The last thing I hear behind me before we walk through the door at the end of the corridor was Joey saying, “Sorry madam, it’s a staff-only entrance.  You’re not allowed to go there.”

“Th-thank you for helping me,” I’m starting to lose my breath from the speed-walking in the staff-only maze.

“It’s quite alright.  I could tell that there’s something wrong with that girl out there.”  He pushes the bars and opens an exit for me, “Here you are, there’s your taxi.  Go now.” 

“Thank you!  You’re a lifesaver.”  I run towards the taxi, hop in, and wave at the nice man.

“Where are you going tonight?” The driver asks once I close the door and he starts driving.

“Ah –“ I try to recall where I’m supposed to go.  That’s the moment when the taxi drives by the hotel entrance again and I can see the girl exiting the hotel and her eyes burn into mine as the car drives by.  “Please keep driving.  I’ll let you know after we’re not in this area anymore.”  I can’t risk letting the girl find out about the last place I can go.   _What the heck does she want?_

I keep looking back to check if we’re being followed.  Or if there’s another taxi behind us.  Phew, there’s none.  The taxi driver glances at me for a few times from the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry, but I’d like to go to Putney, please.”  I tell him as soon as I think we’re finally safe.

**On my way to Putney now.  How long will it take for u to get there?  I srsly don’t want to face Alice by myself ^^**

Probably I can just wait outside the house until Tom gets there.   _But hm, what’s going on?  Obviously there’s something else, something that’s much worse than facing Alice.  Why can’t we even go back home?  Where is Tom now?_

_Bzzzzz!_

 

**Just getting some stuff from my agent.  I am afraid I need to show you something.  Will be there in 30.  -T**


	24. Face Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience, sweeties. I love you.

I’m glad that Uncle Jimmy hasn’t installed any of those porch lights with motion sensor, or else I wouldn’t be here hanging around on the pavement in front of the house without being noticed.  I also asked the taxi driver to drop me off at the Tube station instead, still fearing the girl might have some way to find out where I am.  It’s also easier for me to pay attention to my surroundings while I’m walking, besides, I can kill some time before Tom arrives.  I do _not_ want to approach that house with Alice in it.

After a while I decide to wait a bit closer to the door because it’d make me less visible to the others.  I must appear to be loitering around someone’s door.  I hold the muted phone in a tight grasp, leaning my back against the red brick wall next to the entrance, and try to breathe normally while I keep a lookout for any signs of Tom.  He did say 30 minutes right?  I press a random button on my phone to light up the time…it’s already 35 minutes since his text but there’s still no sign of him. 

39 minutes.

42 minutes.

43 minutes.

Still 43 minutes.

There is a soft _click_ from the doorknob being unlocked and turned. 

And out comes a normal, calm-looking Alice who’s taking out the rubbish.  I have nowhere to hide.

She looks at me for a second, takes the trash to the bin, dumps it, comes back, without a glance or a word, and walks back into the house, leaving the door ajar.

_Sigh._

I follow her in, and immediately hear Alice yell to the air as she climbs up the stairs, “She’s here!”

“Is she?”  Uncle Jimmy comes out from the living room, looking a lot more approachable than Alice.  He gives me a warm hug, and then takes a good look at me at arm’s length, keeping his hands on my shoulders, “Is everything fine?  Tom hasn’t really said anything but it sounds like something’s seriously wrong.”

“I don’t know either.  I’m only following his instructions and have been going around all evening, not having a clue what I’m doing or running away from.”

Uncle Jimmy frowns, “What are you running away from…?”

“It feels that way, yes, but I – I really don’t know…” I bite my lip nervously.

“Come and have a seat, let me make you some tea.”  He affectionately pats on my back and starts walking towards the kitchen.  “I still have some Earl Grey left in my cabinet!”

He manages to calm my nerves without even trying.  He really is the ultimate stabilizing father figure.  I pull a chair out from under the little table in the kitchen, and hang my handbag on its back.

“Is Tom coming?” He asks with his back to me, while looking through the stuff in his kitchen cabinet.  The kettle is already on the stove.

“Yes, he is.”  I look at the phone again, which is still in my hand.  “He should be here any minute.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings.

I rush to the door immediately, but give Uncle Jimmy some space to open the door.  I don’t know, I do want to see Tom as soon as possible but I still feel somewhat an outsider in the house and it doesn’t feel appropriate to open someone’s door.  I’m just standing behind him when Tom comes inside with big steps, like he’s in a hurry.  His face looks even paler than it usually does, his lips are parched, and under his arm he’s holding a big brown envelope.

“Are you alright?” He can’t wait to wrap me in his arms after answering his uncle’s quick “how are you”.  “Did the girl bother you any further?”

“I lost her, thanks to the hotel staff…but she was really freaking me out.  Are you okay though?” I check his face for any clues that I can read: his cheeks and hands are cold, his eyes look tired, and it’s a weary smile that he has on his face.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he squeezes my upper arm, and hurries into the living room.  “I’m terribly sorry to bother you at this hour, Uncle Jimmy.”  He only turns his head briefly to say that to his uncle but he doesn’t stop his feet.

“Would you like a cuppa?” Uncle Jimmy stands up straight, inhales deeply, and slaps on the sides of his thighs.

“Yes, please!” Tom yells from inside the living room.

Uncle Jimmy and I raise eyebrows at each other, and then he calmly walks into the kitchen while I poke my head in the living room.  Tom’s there reclining into the sofa with his knees wide apart.  The brown envelope is on the coffee table, unopened.

“Hey.” I smile timidly, but I can’t hide my curiosity since I’m still wondering what the heck is going on. 

“Hey.” he turns his head to me.  He looks so worn out that he looks as if he’s just done a million things in the past hour.

I walk into the room, around the back of the sofa to reach the other side of Tom.  “Did you even get to finish your dinner?”  I smooth the hem of my shirt after I’ve taken my seat.

He lets out some dry chuckles, and rests his arm around my shoulder.  He kisses my hair next to my crown, “I had you run around the city the whole evening and all you worry about is _that_?”

I make a face, “I do care about you, you know!  Besides…the food was amazing back there.”  I pull my head a bit backward to look at his face better, “And I know you _will_ tell me the obvious.”

He sighs.  And it wipes away all signs of cheerfulness on his face.  He shuts his eyes for two seconds, and then he retrieves his arm from behind my neck, pulling some of my hair with it, and leans forward to reach for the envelope.

His fingertips have just touched it before he lifts his hands up again in mid-air, pauses, and settles them on his knees.  He stares at me straight in the eyes, “Julia, I ah, I don’t know how to prepare you for this.  Well ah…you know what I do, and you know the goods and bads that come with it.”

“I can imagine, I guess…” I’m starting to brace myself for whatever he’s going to tell me.  I need to shut my brain down and force myself not to react to anything, like, even if he’s going to tell me that he’ll marry Luke tomorrow, I would keep my poker face.

“You have no idea how sorry I am to drag you into this.  I just…I should have been more careful.  And I shouldn’t have been so selfish.  Ugh!”  He holds his breath, buries his face in his hands, supporting his elbows on his knees.  “I can’t believe it…”

He’s now basically mumbling to himself, and I don’t know what to do next to him.  I gingerly put my hand on his back hoping that would bring his attention back.  I got quite startled when Tom suddenly straightens up and announces, “However!”

I freeze.

“There’s got to be a solution to this.  And for your own safety, you need to know about it –“ he effortlessly reaches for the envelope on the coffee table, and pulls out some pieces of paper, smaller opened envelopes, and some photos.  He carefully arranges them on the surface in front of us.  But my heart stops when my eyes lay on one of the several photos, or a part of it.  My breath stops.  I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

Did I see that right?

Those…pastel pink flats look oddly familiar.  And that warm yellow skirt.  I remember looking around forever for that kind of yellow.  And those look like…my legs.

Tom organizes everything better on the coffee table, and now I can see the whole photo.  I don’t think I’m going to scream or anything, but I automatically put my hands over my mouth, with force.

After he finishes, he wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulls me closer, and strokes my upper arm in a protective, yet unsure, or even insecure way.  “Darling…” he breathes.  “I’m really sorry.”

This is really disturbing.

In front of me, I can see some letters, which I’d assume to be fanmails to Tom, and there are several photos of us…taken in Madrid.  It’s horrifying because my face has been angrily crossed out with a pen in every photo.  I’m sure it’s crossed out angrily since the pen was pressed against the photo so hard that it’s crumpled and even torn one of them.  Unspeakably insulting words and comments were written around me in the pictures, while little hearts and sparkles were added around Tom.  There are also some other photos…some selfshots of a girl, or rather, a girl’s body.  Her face is intentionally left out of the shots.  I suppose those are of the sender’s.  She’s taken photos of herself in provocative clothing, like lacey lingerie and tiny bikinis.

“…Perfect!  I’ve just bought some biscuits too…” Uncle Jimmy appears at the archway with a tray in his hands, and we both look up at him.  He immediately sees the things spread on the coffee table.  “Uh,” he tilts his head to the side subtly.  “I’ll just leave you the tea and the biscuits…”

We scramble to create some room for the tray and keep mumbling to Uncle Jimmy that it’s okay to stay, but he doesn’t want to see anything he isn’t supposed to see, or so he claims, so he simply puts down the tea and snacks for us before he exits the room.  He’s truly one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.  But no matter how nice he is, I can’t even find the energy to squeeze a tiny smile at him.  My eyes are fixed on all those…things…on the coffee table, and I only know that I don’t want to leave Tom’s side.  To be frank, I really haven’t given this much thought.  But now when I’m trying to let it sink in, it’s clearly something that I should have expected and prepared for…you simply need to search for his ex’s name on the internet or her tags on Tumblr and see what’s happened to her, or what some people have said about her.  Tom is a lot more famous since then…so of course, he’s gained even more attention from his admirers.  It’s not surprising at all that I’ve become the target of hate.  I must have spent so much time escaping from the reality that I forgot being with Tom is also a reality, not a dream.  And there are bad things in the real world.

“I remember her.  She’s written me quite a number of times before, always addressing me as her darling at first, and then she starts calling me her husband.”  Tom explains, keeping his cool despite how absurd the content sounds.  “But a lot of them do too, ah, the other fans.  Most of the time it’s for some harmless laughs, and I’ve learned to deal with it, but this has crossed the line if she actually did stalk us around Madrid.”

Instantly I feel a chill down my spine, trying to picture that there was somebody stalking us when we were wandering around Madrid happily.  _Oh my god, I was even having a stroll around by myself.  What if the girl had decided to attack me back then?  I was lucky that I was “only” bothered by that Spanish guy instead…what if, he’s the one who unexpectedly kept her away when she wanted to approach me or something?_   _…Oh god, she must have seen Tom and me holding hands and stuff too_.

“We have already alerted the local police, unfortunately there isn’t much that they can do for now, since the girl has been sending her letters without a return address.  She never told me her name either.”

“Is she…is she from Spain or from here?  Do you guys know?”  My throat is so dry I can hardly speak without clearing it first.

“We suspect that she’s from around here, considering the postmarks have all been from London.  She might have flown to Madrid after finding out that I’d be there.  The event was advertised publicly and it shouldn’t be a difficult task for her to know my whereabouts around that time.  We’re worried that she might find out where I live, so as soon as my agent saw the photos, they called me to let me know about the situation…it could be quite dangerous if she found out my residential address.”  Tom continues as I half-heartedly flip through the photos, including those racy shots.  “I don’t know if you remember, but I got a call as soon as we landed in London after Madrid?”

“Erm…” I try my best to recall.  “Uh huh, yeah, I guess.”

“They already noticed that girl back then because she sent photos of us taken in London.  The photos didn’t show your face, however, and she didn’t write anything threatening so we saw it as some random celebrity spotting on the street.”  He sighs, “But, as you can see, it’s way beyond that this time.”  He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  With a wrinkled forehead, he asks me in a warm and concerned voice, “Julia…will you be fine with all of these?”

I blink, “Wh – what do you mean?”

He places his left hand on my knee, “I promise you, I’ll try my best to keep you safe.  But…”  He licks his lips.  “As long as you’re with me, some people aren’t going to be happy.  There’ll be words we don’t want to hear, comments that we’ll never want to read…it doesn’t seem that the sender of the photos have posted them online yet, but if, or when, she does, we’ll be under attack.  The press will fabricate stories, will make horrible comments on us, on you…”

My head is getting dizzy.

Tom lowers his head for a second, and then he looks into my eyes again, “I’ve been selfish.  It’s harsh to throw a person into the limelight like that, let alone someone who’s not used to it…Julia, I’m asking you now, very seriously, are you sure you’ll be fine with all these?”

“I ah…I…”

He looks away, “…You know I love you.  I care about you.  I care about your well-being.  The last thing I want to see is you being hurt, simply because you’re with me, so –“

“Wait,” I stop him right there.  “Are you breaking up with me?”

“I –” Tom opens his mouth to speak but he needs a moment to find his words.

“He might as well do.” A voice interrupts. 

Alice is leaning against the archway to the living room.


	25. Almost Famous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Again, thank you SO much for your patience! I'm going to move across continents next month so there are a lot of preparations that I need to do and I hardly ever have time to write for these two weeks. Plus I had a huge writer's block at this scene because it can be written in so many ways and finally I decided on this. BTW I'm thinking if I should start putting the story on a single website for easier management...for all the other sites I'm posting it on i'll put a URL link on it...I'm thinking about Wattpad. What do you think?
> 
> P.S. I don't know if you're reading this. But you have to be on one of the websites I'm posting on. So I just want to let you know that I felt really hurt to have my story stolen like that. It took me MONTHS to create and write. It's wrong to claim others' works as your own's. I believe you have received my mail to you but since you're not replying, I'm going to put this here.

 

Both Tom and I turn to stare at her with widened eyes, both from the shock of her sudden appearance and such brutal choice of words.

 

Alice takes no notice of it, or she chooses to ignore it, and walks around until she stands between the television and coffee table so that her existence in the room can be emphasized.  Well, at least she hasn’t decided to sit next to me, which would be much scarier. 

 

With her hands on both sides of her hip, she declares our verdict: I told you so.

 

I know what she’s going to say but there’s no way I can run away from this one.  Ugh, come on, just get this over with.  Tear this bandage off.

 

She takes a quick look at the photos and papers spread on the coffee table, and starts her lecture, “I have warned you two about this.  Remember when I begged you to stop?  Remember when I warned you about it before this goes into a downward spiral?  Nothing good can come out of it.  You missed your own wedding… “  I know better than to make any eye contact with her.  “And you, you  _made_ her miss her own wedding, you made her leave her own fiancé.  How are you ever going to live with that?  Julia…Tom…” She takes her time to stare into our eyes individually.  “This is one of the things I’ve feared.  You know this won’t be easy, and what’s even worse, you may be putting her in danger…you don’t need me to tell you that you won’t have a quiet or ordinary relationship… Tom, I’m  _so_  relieved that you  _finally_ see what I’ve been trying to tell you – “

 

“What are you talking about, Alice?” Tom gestures at Alice with his palm down and fingers pointing at her.

 

“You need to do this before it’s too late,” Alice talks at the speed of a machine gun.  “You can’t hide her forever.  You know very well that this girl,” she points at the photos.  “Can’t be the only one out there.  For God’s sake, don’t you have those ah...‘army’ of fans or something?  Let’s be realistic here, the girls who date the heartthrobs are  _always_  hated, especially when the guys are at their height of their career.  You can’t fight them all.  And you’re putting her in danger.  Nobody could tell what those girls would do to someone who they think has stolen their man away from them.”  She finally pauses for a sigh.  “Tom,” she places her hand over her chest.  “I hate to bring this up, but you know what it’s like.  …It isn’t the first time.”

 

Instantly I know what she means.   _Tom’s ex._    _And all those hateful, nasty comments I saw online.  Girls actually blackened her eyes to make her look like a demon, or called her ugly, or said that she wasn’t good enough for Tom…so on and so forth.  She’s actually a very pretty lady and both Tom and she looked so happy together.  I don’t understand why she needed to be attacked…and who am I to be even compared to her?  If she got such treatment, I don’t even want to imagine what they’re going to say about me_.

 

Tom isn’t really responding – he’s just there, leaning forward, lacing his fingers loosely while his elbows are resting on his knees.  He stares at Alice, pushing his eyebrows up and wrinkling his forehead.

 

Dead silence.

 

_I can’t stand it.  Does it mean that he agrees with Alice?  No, no, no no no nononoo…_

 

I hold my breath.  I don’t know if I want to hear the next words that come out from Tom’s mouth.  My hands are trembling.

 

“Alice,” Tom stands up, an action that lets him regain his status quo before Alice’s presumptuous speech.  His voice is calm and collected.  He takes one step forward but he doesn’t intrude her personal space, “I understand your concern.  I admit my actions have appeared to be quite reckless but I’ll do my best to make things right.  Not all fans are like this girl, in fact, most of them are very understanding and sensible.  They’ll accept it eventually.  It may be difficult but it’s completely achievable.  Look at Chris and Elsa, they’re doing great – Chris’s fans adore them and their beautiful family.”

 

“But Elsa is also an actress!  She’s used to the limelight!  Julia isn’t –“ Alice retorts.  She’s acting like a desperate mother negotiating with her teenage kids.

 

“Alice.” Tom speaks in a more authoritative tone.

 

Before he can continue, I stand up and announce, though immediately regretting it because that still makes me the shortest person in the room.  I should have stay seated like a boss.  Anyway.  “Look, I’m an adult.  I’d be responsible for my own action and decision.”  I feel light-headed so I stumble towards Tom and hold onto his arm to steady myself, “Alice, please.  I see where you’re coming from, and I really appreciate it that you care about us so much.  We’re not asking you to approve of our relationship, but please try to respect our decision.”

 

I can feel Tom’s eyes on my face.  I can’t help but bite my lip out of nervousness.

 

“We need your support more than ever.”  I hope I’ve convinced Alice to let it go.

 

The only thing she does is to cover her face with her hands and slump into the one-seater sofa next to her, with a groan.

 

I tilt my head back to see if Tom’s happy with what I’ve just said – only to find him staring back at me with tightened jaw and lips that are pulled into a thin line.  I make my best effort to search for any clues on his face that would tell me what his expression means, but I can’t really tell.

 

“Darling,” finally he starts.  “Are you sure about this?  Are you  _really_  sure about this?”

 

I don’t know why he’s asking this question again, but I don’t feel approved or encouraged with such response.  “Why are you asking me this, Tom?”  I should have stopped here but my mouth takes over before my brain can stop it, “You can’t drag me into this and then kick me away.  Not like this.  I gave up everything for you.   _Everything_.” 

 

My nose starts to feel sour but there’s no way I’d let Alice see my tears.  I don’t want to admit that I feel defeated.  She can’t make me feel inferior because of my own decision – I need to feel strong.  Even if it means I’m only being stubborn.  If the girls hate me, then so be it.  I’ve given up everything to be here and there’s no turning back.

 

“Alice?  Can you be a dear and come help me in the kitchen?” Uncle Jimmy calls out from outside of the living room.

 

Alice raises her head from her hands, “I’m in the middle of something!”

 

“Come here now,” he insists.

 

“What,” Alice stands up reluctantly, mumbling under her breath as she walks out of the room.  “At this hour, dad?”

 

Tom and I look at her go before we breathe again.  You gotta be thankful for people like Uncle Jimmy.

 

“Here, darling.”  Tom grabs my hand and leads me back to the couch.  He comforts me by patting my knee reassuringly and speaks in a feathery voice, “Of course I’m not kicking you away.”

 

“…Then why do you keep asking me if I’m sure…?”  I manage to whisper.

 

“Because I need to be sure you’re aware of what you’re getting yourself into.  I’ve heard from other actors, who have advised me to never Google myself online, but sometimes things are just thrown right in your face.  It’s impossible to look away or completely ignore it.”  He sighs, “I’ve been selfish.  You’re right.  It is  _I_  who dragged you into this.  Alice is right too.”  He takes another deep breath.  “I know what it’s like, since it’s not the first time, and yet I dragged you into this.  I know you’ve sacrificed a lot, and that’s exactly why I can’t ask you to give up anything anymore…it’s the loss of freedom I’m talking about, and the loss of privacy.  Apart from that, people tend to have a lot of opinions about everything you do, and everything you don’t do.  They’d criticize the clothes you wear, the way your hair looks, the words you say, the way you walk…everything.  I’m an actor so yes, I’ve chosen this life.  I’m used to having an audience.  But you shouldn’t need to give up all those just for…me.”

 

Somehow his voice just drones on.  I’m listening but I…I’m not really listening because I refuse to acknowledge what he’s trying to tell me.  When I finally realize my thoughts have strayed, I find myself in a desperate attempt to stay focused by studying the lines on his forehead, and trying to name the color of his eyes.  It’s amazing how much you don’t pay absolute attention to people’s eye color when you’re talking to them every day.  Then there’s that line at where his eyebrows and his nose meet.  I love looking at it whenever he pulls a face and wrinkles his nose.

 

“…Julia?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“Are you feeling fine?  You’re awfully quiet.”

 

I must have zoned out longer than I’ve planned to.  “Oh yes, I am.”

 

Awkward.

 

I’ve been staring.  At his eyes too.  Must come up with something quickly.

 

“Tom, I – “ I start.

 

“Julia –“ Tom opens his mouth at the same time.

 

We giggle slightly, “You go first.  No,  _you_  go first.”

 

Being the perfect gentleman, Tom insists in letting me speak first.  “Tom…I’m tired.  Can we…can we go home?  I don’t want to bother Uncle Jimmy for too long.”

 

He gets what I mean and so he tries to pick up any noise that can tell us what’s going on in the kitchen.  All we can hear is some muffled conversation between Uncle Jimmy and Alice.  I feel bad for keeping them awake and for not letting them use the living room for the evening, though indirectly.  Tom immediately checks the time on his wristwatch.  It’s getting later but probably not late enough.  He lowers his voice, since the house has become much quieter than before, without Alice’s angry lecture.  “We’ll go in an hour, okay?  I don’t think our little stalker works  _that_  hard at following us around at this hour.  We should be safer in the dark.”

 

I’m relieved.  At least I’ll have access to my clothes and I won’t feel so stressed around Alice.  “You know,” I smirk.  “You’re really not being yourself tonight.  Don’t you always say that you don’t get scared but rather you get excited about things?  I know I’m talking crazy but hey, the evening has been quite exciting.  You gotta admit it.”

 

He shakes his head with a smile, “You’re unbelievable.  I was so worried about you when you told me about that girl and now you tell me you find it exciting…”

 

“Hey, I felt like Jason Bourne with excellent escaping skills.”  I grin.

 

“You’re in England right now.  I’d prefer James Bond to Jason Bourne.”  Now he’s smiling with his mouth slightly open.  That’s good.  I don’t want him to ask me if I’m sure again.

 

“Hm.  This feels familiar,” I keep smiling as I bend over to tidy up the coffee table.  I put the photos and papers in a stack.  I don’t want to face this right now.  It’s enough for one night. 

 

  I take one last look at that bikini selfie before I put it away.   _Can it be her?  It’s really difficult to tell because her face isn’t shown.  When I met her in the hotel lobby, her body was covered completely by the trench coat and her other clothes so there’s no way to identify that faceless body.  It can be, but it can be not…hmm…_  ARGH.  Does it make a difference?

 

“Why?” Tom asks, responding to my last comment.  He appears to be much more relaxed than before, leaning back in the couch, his long legs sprawl in front of him for as far as the coffee table and other objects allow them.

 

I twist my head to look at him, pause for a few seconds to see if he’s serious that he doesn’t know what I mean.  “This is the place where we very first met, Tom.  And we were also sitting here talking about films, remember?”

 

“Ah,” he blinks and a wide grin instantly appears on his face.  “I’ll always remember that day.  I remember everything to the last detail…like how we were sitting here, and you were telling me that you’ve fallen asleep during several films of mine…”

 

“Hey!” I slap him in his arm with a small pile of papers and photos still in my hand.  “You’ll never let that one go, will you?”

 

“Never!  Ehehehee!” He raises his arms in defense, and accidentally knocks over the papers and they fly everywhere under the coffee table.  “Oh, sorry!  Let me.”  Tom presses one of his hands on my thigh to keep me seated while he kneels on one knee to get the papers with his other hand.  He does it very efficiently but suddenly he freezes.  His warm hand leaves a cold spot on my leg and he’s there, staring at whatever he has in his hands.

 

“What is it?”  I look over his shoulder to find out.

 

He’s looking at the back of one of the pictures.  And there are some writings on it:

 

**_Tom, I am sure Julia doesn’t love you like I do._ **

 

 It looks alright at first glance because oh well…that’s what she’s been saying all along.  But something’s not right here…

 

“Julia…” Tom murmurs, at the words and at me.

 

 _Julia_.   _Oh yes that’s it.  How does she know my name?  HOW DOES SHE KNOW MY NAME?_

 

I’m screaming internally but I don’t want to panic in front of Tom, especially we’ve both  _just_  calmed down.   _Think.  There’s gotta be an explanation for it.  Spain.  Stalker.  The Spanish guy…and I was walking outside…hm no, she wouldn’t have found out from that guy because he didn’t know me.  Let me think…the photos of Tom and me together in the park…AAAH._

 

“Perhaps she overheard you when we were talking,” I wrap my arms around Tom’s neck, kneeling behind him.  “She was stalking us after all.  So it’s not a surprise that she knows my name.”

 

Tom squeezes my hand that dangles in front of his collarbones, “Yes, you’re right.  That’d explain it.”  He holds it up and gives my knuckles a little kiss.  Somehow his lips are still cold.

 

We both scramble to get up from the floor after shoving everything hastily into the big brown envelope Tom brought them in.

 

 

 

“Let’s go home.”  Tom offers his hand to me before we go to the kitchen to say goodbye to the Collins.


	26. Let's Go Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hehehehe does anybody still remember this story? I've finally settled down in my new home and I'm typing again! Took sometime for me to get back to the game because even myself have forgotten what I was supposed to write, even with the notes on my notebook and everything...but I'm back now! :D Thank you so much for sticking with me and I've also decided to group all my future chapters to...Wattpad so that I can manage it more easily. :) So here's a new chapter, and a toast to all my lovely readers.
> 
> Previously on Butterfly Effect: After a crazy night out, Julia has escaped from the crazy girl she ran into in a hotel, and has arrived at Uncle Jimmy's house to meet up with Tom. Tom's brought this envelope that he's got from his agent and inside they found all these racy selfies of a fan and some photos of Julia and Tom when they're in Madrid. They have no idea when or who took the photos but they find out that the fan knows Julia's name. Now they're about to go home to rest after this...eventful evening.

Uncle Jimmy is surprised to see us standing at his kitchen door.  He protests and tries to keep us there for longer, after hearing from Alice about what’s happened.  But I really don’t want to be a burden so I insist.  Of course, Alice is another reason why I don’t want to be there.  It feels strange because she used to be like a big sister to me and I’d tell her everything…she always made me feel safe around her since she always has the solutions but now she feels like an overprotective mother who’s doing nothing else but pushing me away.  It’s crazy to say it but especially during these few days, Tom feels like the only one I’ve got left.  My world revolves around him.

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/26277109-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will lead you to Wattpad)


	27. ...Holding On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: It feels so good to be writing again :) For the twitter part in the story, I've tried so hard to come up with random names and I've checked all the twitter usernames I've created, they don't exist up to this day (October 5, 2013) except of course, Tom's real twitter account. The names are all fictional so if it does happen to be your name, it's purely coincidential. If you want to see the restaurant they go to, please check out: http://laceandbutterfly.tumblr.com/post/41351831479/locations-and-stuff-that-appear-in-the-story-butterfly I base all the restaurants and most of the places in the story on actual places :) Enjoy!! xx

So after what I’ve done to him, he still wants me back.  Now  _that_  just makes me feel even worse about myself because I feel as if everyone around me were better human beings than I am.

I don’t know how to respond to that so I simply let out some nervous giggles and wave the book casually in front of the webcam and mumble something like, “Aah…yeah, I’ma…gonna get back to my book.  Ha.  Take care!”

He didn’t stop me from leaving the chat.  Or I haven’t given him the opportunity to.  I think he only muttered “Enjoy your book…be careful over there” to me before I smiled at him and turned off the camera. 

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/26905799-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom?d=ud) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	28. ...and Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay proofreading and editing done :) We should be returning to Jeff's world in the next chapter!
> 
> P.S. Also, sorry if you're not a fan of BC...there is a huge demand for his guest appearance in the story and I thought, after doing some brief research, why not? :) He and Tom seem to be very good friends :)
> 
> Enjoy xx

Tom responds with equal exhilaration.  His whole face lights up and instantly his cheeks split into the widest grin.

_Wait.  But that guy is –_

The man opens the door behind Tom as Tom twists his waist to face the… _Benedict Cumberbatch_.  Tom struggles to pull his chair back after Benedict closes the door and he stands up to give his friend a big hug.

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/27491265-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom?d=ud) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	29. Oh Sharon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry it's taken a while again. Had a minor writer's block because in my original plan, the story should have ended sooner but I'm trying not to make it too sudden so I've added a lot of new scenes to smooth things out before the ending. Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!! xx

 

I can’t breathe.  I mean, I’m holding my breath because I don’t know how else to react to this… this image in front of my eyes.

Sharon’s rage seems to have been extinguished by Tom’s equally, if not more, furious kiss.  I know I really should tear my eyes away but I can’t because Tom acts as if he was daring me to keep looking.  I hold on to Jeff for support because I feel like I’d lose all my strength anytime and fall from my stool if I ever let go.

I seriously think that it’d probably hurt less if someone just went ahead and stabbed me right through my heart instead.  What Tom’s doing now spears through my every cell with agony.  Just why, why is he doing this?  Why does he need to kiss another girl in front of me, only to show me that he’s not happy?  What  _are_  you doing?  Where’s the Tom that I know?

It’s probably becoming a bit too long for a hug and Jeff tries to sit back up straight, which forces me to rely on myself to keep it together.  It takes all my will to keep my tears at bay…why do I feel like the bad guy here, for turning a lovely man into this, and making him feel like he needs to take revenge on me like that?

“Seems like they’ve made up and made out, uh?”  Jeff comments, after seeing what’s going on on the other side of the window. 

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/29242950-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	30. Because I Love You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: OMG I can't believe this...this is the end of Jeff's world and I feel like I'm losing a piece of my heart. Sorry AGAIN for taking so long to update, it's because my super intensive French class is taking up all my time and my ankle is acting up (probably need to go have it checked soon) and it's bringing me quite a lot of pain. I'm in awe of the sudden influx of new readers too - welcome and thank you for reading this far!!!! I LOVE YOU ALL AND THANKS FOR SHARING THIS RIDE WITH ME!

Curiosity can be such a bad thing.  I mean, I  _knew_  that nothing good will happen if I read those messages, and yet my fingers involuntarily press the buttons to open them.

**Julia, please, please answer the phone.**

**Whatever Sharon has said to you, don’t listen to her.**

**In fact, I don’t think it’s working anymore between us.**

_Wait.  What?  Oh Tom, what have you done?_

There’s still one message and I really hope it’s him correcting his last statement.  It feels bad enough to upset anyone, I really don’t want to be the cause of someone’s breakup.

**Julia, if you please, can you come down to the lobby?  I need to talk to you.**

**  
**[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/31429375-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom?utm_source=email) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	31. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so here it is, as promised :) It's 3:30am again and I'm trying to pull this off the 2nd night in a row...I hope I won't fall asleep in class tmr lol. I love you guys! xx

As soon as the words escape from my mouth, everything freezes.  Tom just stares at me with those big, round eyes of his, and there’s no sound coming from anywhere – not from inside the room, or from Tom, or me.

So much time has passed in silence that I’m starting to question if I’ve really said anything.  I’m now ultra-aware of my own breathing.  He looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t know what to say.  He looks…blank.

“…What do you mean,” he finally utters.  “That you’re not going?”

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/36855009-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	32. The Final Level

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How come school starts again tomorrow already? Where has the time gone? T^T But I’ve tried to write a lot more than usual - this and the one-shot in a bit more than a week…I’m pretty proud of myself :3 BTW sorry again for the unanswered messages. Usually when I put a complete halt on replying all messages, it’s the time when I try to focus on writing the new chapter. Sometimes I need to respond to up to 70 comments/messages/new follows in a day so please forgive me if I need to take sometime to get back to you. Enjoy the new chapter xx

I gasp.  That’s not what I’ve been thinking, well, not exactly.  “No!  Of course not!”  I hurry to stop him from saying anything more, reacting as if I’ve just touched a red hot pot on the stove.  He can’t possibly think that I regret coming here, can he?

My voice comes out a lot more higher than it should be so I clear my throat before continuing, surprised that Tom hasn’t cut in during the gap, “Of course I don’t regret coming here…I chose to be here, remember?”

“But then why you make it sound like you’re trying to find reasons to go away?”  Tom asks softly, still drawing circles on my knee with his fingers.  “I didn’t know you aren’t happy here.  Please tell me what we should do to make it better?  Hm?”

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/38418727-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	33. The Final Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay so FINALLY here's an update ^^;; Most of you who have messaged me / left me comments would have known already that it's because of my intensive French course that I'm losing all my free time and energy. There's only one level left that I need to do and then I'll be free woohoo!! I'm making this chapter longer to compensate for the slow update. ...So previously on Butterfly Effect: Julia met Tom's mother finally. Tom was very happy about the meeting but Julia felt otherwise...

“No she doesn’t!”  Tom mirrors my frown, sounding both confused and offended.

“Okay, maybe not  _hate_.  But she’s, uh,  _concerned_.”  I hastily add, and turn to face Tom directly, resting my hip against the counter.  “She sees me as a disloyal woman who has betrayed her fiancé to be with someone who’s richer and more famous.  She’s concerned that I’m a…I’m a…”  I  _hate_  that word.  But I can tell Diana probably sees me as one.  “…A gold-digger.”

“Oh sweetie, no.”  He shakes his head fanatically.  “You are  _not._   I know you’re not a – you know.”

“But I can tell that’s what she thinks of me!”

“I’m sure you’re overthinking.  She really doesn’t.  Believe me.”

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/46697446-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will redirect you to Wattpad)


	34. The Final Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this is it. The final chapter. Thank you for sharing the amazing journey with me and once I again, I can't apologize enough for the slow updates towards the end of the story. No matter who you are, whether you've been with me since the very beginning or you've just joined us recently, I want to express my utmost gratitude for all the comments and messages and votes you've given me. You guys are the BEST. Keep 'em coming! I've created a readers' feedback form and I would really appreciate if if you could fill it out: https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1jCqPulIhO3kwjKzEObZrUuFFer-VWV1aqES_JifGYHM/viewform Once again, thank you so very much and I'll probably try self-publishing something soon, so stay tuned xx

“Tom,” I involuntarily glance at the corner of the wall.  “Of course I’m happy.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” he’s almost whispering.  He turns to reach for the bottle to pour himself some more water – he’s already finished his glass.

The sudden absence of his warmth around my hands is giving me goose bumps.  It feels like I’m on my own, standing on the stage with a spotlight in my face, and I have a huge lump in my throat.  “I, uh…”

“Hm?”  Tom looks up from his glass, which makes his eyes adorably round.

My nose feels sour.   _No!  I’m supposed to be a good actress today!  I must not fail now.  Not now._

“I…’ve been thinking,” I stretch my chin forward gawkily, the way a chicken would do.  “That it’d better for me to um,” now my hand is making circles.  “To go back home for a while.”

[Read More](http://www.wattpad.com/64635481-butterfly-effect-the-sequel-to-butterflies-a-tom) (will redirect you to Wattpad)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Don't forget to fill out the survey at:
> 
> https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1jCqPulIhO3kwjKzEObZrUuFFer-VWV1aqES_JifGYHM/viewform :) Much appreciated!
> 
> P.P.S. The lyrics is from a Nickelback's song :)


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